


And They Were Roommates

by sewer_seance



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anxiety, College, Depression, Internalized Homophobia, Long, M/M, Mental Illness, Multiple chapters, Nick is one anxious boi, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Jay, Rating May Change, Reinvention, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Build, Slow Burn, angst sandwich with some fluff in between, eventual smut (chapter 20), first year, healthy cousins, maybe Triggers, mentioned/implied Daisy and Jordan, natsby - Freeform, nothing too descriptive, rough growing up, they’ll get there eventually, this turned out a lot angstier than i planned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-07-05 08:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewer_seance/pseuds/sewer_seance
Summary: Nick is anxious to begin his first year at college, both in a good and bad way. But he’s even more anxious about his roommate. Jay Gatsby is an enigma that Nick just can’t figure out. Why does his heart clench up every time he smiles at him, why do his palms sweat, why does he stutter. Nick fears the worst. But through out the year, Jay Gatsby isn’t all that he seems to be. Can he really last the whole year without falling in love but more importantly, can he trust him?





	1. Pineapple

**Author's Note:**

> Nick has some severe anxiety and some chapters may be more triggering than others. I’m trying to keep it realistic, while on the down low for some of the time. Just be aware of trigger warnings. I want all you kids to stay safe.

Was is possible to be sick to your stomach with excitement and fear all at once? Nick Carraway decided that he could. For all of two years, he had thought of nothing but college. It was on his mind every waking moment. He had been all too eager to begin the application process and finished before many of his peers had started. Nick looked forward to a higher level of education, expanding his mind and the beautiful campus. More than anything, however, he looked forward to the freedom of being his own person, making decisions on his own rather than everything be dictated by an overbearing, but well-meaning, father. He would be free of his family. Make no mistake, he loved his family. Of course he loved his family! But for the last two years, it had become...difficult to love them as much as he had. The clash of personalities and opinions was too much for him, the child who preferred to view the family goings-on from the outside. The growing tensions between family members only spurred him towards the pursuit of higher education...preferably out of the state too. Now here he stood, his goal of two years right before him and he was terrified. He stood rooted to the ground, heart squeezing in fear as he stared at the building where he would be living for the next year. A terrible truth echoed in his ears: he wasn’t ready to be an adult.

  
He had achieved what he craved only to realize he had no idea what to do with it? Independence? Adulthood? What are those? So he just stood there, gripping his map, schedule, and bag until his knuckles turned white and stiff from the force. Inside, his emotions raged. Anxiety was winning. He fought the quickening of his breath, his calmer mind trying to reason with his frantic body. An internal shiver took over him, threatening to shake out his common sense. _No. Not now. Not in the open. Get it together._ The words meant nothing. Nick forced himself to take a step in the direction of his future. With each step, he pushed down his shaking soul, knowing full well that it would rise up again once he was alone. He shut himself off as much as he could. Past experience had taught him that apathy was better than anxiety. Besides, he couldn’t afford to have a mental breakdown the first day of college. He tried to remind himself why he was excited to be here in the first place.

  
It was easier to calm down once he found his room. Nick tried to imagine himself back home in Chicago. Without much success. The rooms he was accustomed to, the rooms he had spent his childhood, weren’t necessarily majestic, but they were a hell of a lot grander than the low ceilings and blank walls of his new dorm room. Nick uncertainty sat himself down on the questionable looking mattress to take in the sparse surroundings. Smiling, he found it easy to relax in the space. Lack of dusty antiques and meaningless art pieces made for a less oppressive atmosphere. Not so museum esque. He gently fell back onto the bed, still nervously but considerably less so. At least for now, the storm had quieted. The quail, however, was ready to start up again when the doorknob turned with a click. Nick sprung off the bed, heart ready to race if the situation required it to. In walked a girl carrying a box much too large and much too heavy for her petite build. Daisy’s head appeared just barely over the top. She smiled freely over at Nick.

  
“You’re just going to let a lady carry all your things? A _tiny_ lady?” she grunted under the weight of what appeared to be most of Nick’s books. He rushed forward to take the load off of his dear cousin.

  
“You could’ve grabbed something lighter, you know? Like towels or bedding.”

  
Daisy shrugged and perched herself on the bed. “All of your stuff is heavy. You over packed,” she teased. She took her time surveying the room, ending her examination with a sniff. “This room is so depressing,” she announced, “Sure you don’t want to take me up on my offer?” Daisy eyed Nick through her peripherals casually. Her demeanor, however, was too stiff to be the indifference she tried so hard to feign. It was more of barely repressed expectation. Nick smiled and shook his head.

  
“I want the real college experience as much as possible.”

  
Daisy sniffed again and her shoulders sagged, energy replaced with disappointment. Her head swiveled away with an exasperated sigh. She couldn’t help it if she was haughty: it ran through her blood. Her side of the family was American royalty, had been for generations. Daisy was raised to expect the best of everything. Whatever she wanted, she was given without hesitation. She expected those around her to have the same taste for luxury. Imagine her shock when her cousin, also of considerable wealth and note, turned down her offer to buy him an apartment as a gift for his first year of college. Well, not so much as an apartment, but as a luxurious penthouse. Well, not so much as a penthouse as the entire building. Nick thought that 18 was a little young for a landlord. Daisy didn’t see the problem. In any case, Daisy had a horrible habit of judging others based on wealth and social standing. Besides her tendency to be more than a little shallow, Nick supposed that his cousin was a generally wonderful person. After all, she did offer to help him move into his “depressing” dorm. That had to count for something. And in return, Daisy adored her darling little “Nicky”, despite his horrible living taste.

  
“Well, if you ever change your mind…” she prompted again. Nick shook his head, refusing her offer a final time. Hurumphing dramatically, she vacated the bed and straightened out her skirt.

  
“Come on then,” she walked over to playfully squeeze his arm, “let’s finish moving you in. The less time I spend in this room, the better.” She cast one last disparaging look around before heading to the door.

  
After many hours and many back and forth trips, they finished bringing Nick’s belongings to his room. Both necessity and luxury rested in numerous boxes scattered about his bed and a few pieces of furniture he managed to bring up without much help from Daisy. Actually, Nick was surprised that Daisy had stayed as long as she did; she wasn’t bred for manual labor and detested lifting things. Well, really both of them despised their task, but together they were able to (nearly) successfully move Nick into his dorm. Daisy’s final box slammed down at the foot of Nick’s bed, the thump signaling the end of their struggles.

  
“Why,” she humphed, smile still gently in place, “do you have so many books? Do you really need all of these?” she ruffled his hair in that older sisterly way that she had done since they were children.

  
“I don’t know how you can ask that. Of course I do,” Nick laughed, shoving away her hand and trying to fix his hair back up. Nick had already started unpacking, carefully arranging his precious novels on the bookshelf. They wouldn’t all fit, Nick knew that, but that wouldn’t keep him from trying. Daisy’s wandering footsteps fell against the resumed silence between the two: a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. They had always been more or less the odd ones out, preferring quiet or solitude to cotillions and debutante balls. The soft steps came to a rest. Daisy, now on the other side of the room, spoke up.

  
“I assume this is for a roommate?”  
Nick looked over to see what she was referring to. She was inspecting the bed and mattress across the room with a grimace. There was an unseemly stain near the head that she obviously didn’t want to know more about.

  
“You assume right.”

  
Nick had been avoiding thinking about his unknown roommate. He had never been the most socially gifted person, preferring books to actual conversation and writing to sports. Academia was simply his nature, something that had proven to be somewhat disappointing to his father who was a sport star in his own day. Mr. Carraway worried that his son would be an outcast, too stuck in his books to make friends. Nick wasn’t alone by any means, but he certainly couldn’t be counted on to initiate any of his friendships. Or any relationships for that fact. His nervous streak wasn’t too much of a help either. Mr. Carraway insisted that it was just a phase. No son of his could have anxiety. He was just shy, just a little “nervous”. Nick believed he was right. He just tended to be nervous; it wasn’t anything that he shouldn’t be able to control. So, Nick worried about what kind of person his roommate would be. Hopefully they wouldn’t mistake his reserve for coldness. Nick was terrified of tense or awkward situations in general. A new roommate wouldn’t know about Nick’s quirks, which could lead to exactly what he feared. How much easier would it be if they just automatically knew each other, friends from the start. And while Nick liked to dream, he was still painfully aware of the confines of reality. Thus, he knew that that wasn’t a possibility. All in all,it was too stressful to think about, so he just didn’t.

  
Daisy wandered back over from the strange bed to Nick’s side. She draped herself over his shoulders and sighed.

  
“Can’t this wait for later? I'm starving,” she pouted, mussing his hair again. Her saying so made Nick realize that he too, was famished. He unfolded himself from his crossed sitting position, legs stiff and asleep. Groaning, he rubbed life back into them.

  
“Where do you wanna go?”

  
Daisy smiled and tapped her chin thoughtfully and said one word: “Pizza.”

  
Pizza was just what they needed. Gooey, cheesy pizza. They went out on the town, discovering a local haunt that would be useful to Nick as the year went by. Thanks to Daisy, they ate their fill and then some. Also thanks to Daisy, Nick began to breathe easy for the first time all day. Neither noticed the dying sun outside streaking the pizza parlor’s windows an urgent red. They were too busy laughing.

  
“Oh Nicky, it’s been too long! I swear that you’ve grown a foot since I last saw you,” she stole his uneaten crust. Nick blushed and shrugged.

  
“You don’t visit enough,” he supplied. It was true. After her family had moved away, Nick rarely saw her. She had been his closest childhood friend. They tried their best to keep in touch, as much as their age would allow them. It comforted Nick to know that they wouldn’t need to spend an extraordinary amount of time mending their bond. Already they were clicking on the levels that they used to. Nick took a thoughtful bite, only to have his thoughts be interrupted by a rather explicit gagging sound. Daisy stook out her tongue and shuddered.

  
“How do you eat that?”

  
Nick scowled and brandished his pizza slice towards Daisy. “Pineapple on pizza is perfectly fine!” Daisy continued to gag until Nick threw one of the yellow villains towards her open mouth. She gasped before breaking out into raucous laughter: far from the restrained hum she usually employed. Nick purposefully bit into his pizza and stared down the laughing Daisy.

  
After the sun had been down for a while, Daisy offered to walk Nick back before going on her way. They walked arm in arm through the dark campus. Freshmen and returning students wandered about as well, whooping and partying the return. Well, the freshmen mainly. Returning students knew better the awaiting late nights and hells. Daisy herself was a sophomore, but she liked to act much older than that with Nick. She loved the year she had a ahead of him. Nick was her little project, her’s to protect. A funny prospect when one considered that he was more than her superior in stature. Daisy stopped at the door to the dorm and turned to Nick with a sigh.

  
“You can find your room okay?” she patted his hands. Nick nodded, smiling down the lump in throat. He wasn’t ready for Daisy to leave him yet. Daisy pulled him down to her level and wrapped him in a tight hug, trying her best not to hang off of him. “Swing by this weekend, ok? You can tell me all about your first week,” she beamed up at him and soothingly rubbed his arms. Nick nodded, not letting her drag him to a tearful farewell.

  
“I’ll see you soon, Daisy.” He turned to leave but she caught his hand and pulled him back into one more hug.

  
“Proud of you, Nicky,” she whispered before finally letting him go. With one last smile, she turned on her heel and left. Nick watched her go for a moment, wishing that she would just stay with him. She could be his roommate and everything would be fine. But she had her own place, and Nick’s real roommate was no doubt waiting in their room to meet him.

  
Nick paused in front of his door, just staring at the handle. He could hear faint music on the other side. The effect was welcoming, luring, but Nick still stood. Biting his bottom lip, shifting from foot to foot, he finally resolved to enter the room. He unlocked and opened the door. His assumption was correct. There sat his roommate in the common room, softly singing along with...was that a CD player? Who had those anymore? The boy looked up with the most brilliant smile he had ever seen. A smile that froze Nick in the doorway. His roommate stood and crossed over to Nick, holding out his hand.

  
“Hi! Are you Nick? I’m Jay Gatsby, your roommate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of pineapple on pizza? Are you with Nick or Daisy?


	2. Red Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger: Nick breaks down

Nick let his hand be shaken firmly by the beaming Jay, who pulled him into the room. “Hi,” he barely got out, so taken aback by the warm welcome. Jay had no signs of nerves like any of the other freshmen, especially like Nick. He smiled at Nick as if they had always been friends, had always lived together, had been going to college for years and already knew the grind. Jay went over to turn off the music and resume his seat. He pushed out the opposite chair with his foot and gestures with his head for Nick to sit there. Still wary, Nick took the seat and sat too stiffly for an 18 year old boy. Jay just looked at him for a while before clearing his throat.

  
“So, tell me about Nick Carraway,” he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head. When Nick didn’t respond, he changed into a “Mr. Thinker” pose, frowning in feigned thought. Nick dared a smile, but finding words was harder than finding the emotion. Jay waited patiently for Nick to answer. For nick, it was unbearable. This was the exact awkwardness he feared. Sure, he might have prepared himself mentally for a few days of awkward run ins as they learned each other’s habits and schedules but he had not prepared for interrogation! Nick shifted in the chair with an awful creak.

  
“What...what do you mean?”

  
Gatsby smiled at having finally elicited a response from his silent companion.

  
“Well, hobbies! Likes! Dislikes! Where are you from! All that jazz!” Jay leaned forward eagerly once more, anticipating conversation. He wouldn’t get it.

  
“Well, I’m from Chicago.” And that’s where Nick stopped. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember if he liked anything, or even disliked anything! He was more or less a shell in this moment. A shell from Chicago. Nick opened his mouth to add more. He was sure he must be at least somewhat interesting. He must have something to share about himself. His mouth closed after a few minutes of mental turmoil. He might have muttered out something along the lines of “sorry”.

  
Jay hummed to himself, taking in the single piece of information. What could he do with Chicago? “If it’s easier for you, we can play, I don’t know, ice breaking games?”

  
Nick relaxed from his emotionless reverie. If you can call perking up in fury relaxing. “No,” he said sharply, “Those games come straight from the 8th circle of Hell!” He blushed when he realized that his first actual sentence of worth to his roommate was a shout. Jay sat in wide eyed silence for only a second before bursting out into laughter. It was full and filled his entire body, filled the entire room. At one point he looked over at the red faced Nick, which only spurred his laughter to the point of nearly falling backwards. He quieted after some time and nodded with something of finality.

  
“I think we’re going to get along just fine, Dante,” he hummed, settling down.

  
Nick blushed and muttered, “It wasn’t that funny.”

  
“Maybe so, but it was jarring. That was the most personality I’ve seen so far.” Nick blushed ever deeper, and looked at his feet. What must Jay think of him? This certainly wasn’t the impression he wanted to give. Well, he didn’t really know what impression he was giving but he knew he didn’t want to give it. He had planned their first meeting so differently. Nick would introduce himself, maybe explain that he was more a quiet type. He _hadn’t_ planned on yelling and then staring at his feet in frustrated and embarrassed silence. Nick realized that Jay had been talking and was now looking at him again for an answer. So not only has he yelled at him, he was now not paying attention.

  
“I’m sorry what was that?”

  
“I asked if you liked to read? I saw your personal library when I went to go set up my own stuff, and with the classical reference, I’m guessing you like to read?”

  
Here was something Nick could talk about.

  
“Yeah, I do.”

  
_Come on, say something more than that!_ No other words came to his tongue. They all stayed in his head. Comments on his favorite authors, how reading was his only sanctuary as a child, on and on. Silence. He looked down at his feet again in shame. Nick had been so busy worrying about what kind of roommate he would have he didn’t stop to think about what kind of roommate he was going to be. The worst one in the world apparently. He wasn’t suited for Jay. Jay needed someone talkative, lively. Probably someone who liked to party too. Nick was far from those things. He couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a freak or something along those lines. Reason told him that there were much worse people than him. Some people collected fingernail clippings. Nick wasn’t one to listen to reason though. He stewed in self misery and condemnation, nearly forgetting that Jay was there, still watching his silent roommate. He was also witness to the rapidly changing emotions on Nick’s face. Nick would have balked if he thought that Jay knew what was going on beneath the surface. His thoughts could be so terribly embarrassing. Unnatural, he remembered his Priest telling him once. He tried to stop the stream of thoughts, but unsuccessfully. He looked back up at a sudden movement.

  
Jay had vacated his seat and came to sit on the table next to Nick. He smiled down at Nick, no pity in the cheery expression, but there was the hint of familiar concern in his eyes. When he next spoke, it was in a gentle tone.

  
“I wish I liked reading. It’s better than what I do for fun, more productive.” He waited, more comfortable in the silence than Nick was. As he probably expected, Nick didn’t answer. He had nodded to Jay’s comment, but words still eluded him. Jay pushed himself off the table and rested his hands on his hips. “Come on,” he announced, “Let’s go out.”  
“What?” Nick had just got in.  
“Come on,” Jay said again, in a different way. The last one was a call to action. This was more of a plea. “First night on campus. Let’s celebrate! Before we’re weighed down by deadlines and lectures!” Jay’s eyes glimmered as he spoke. Barely repressed energy pulsed through his veins, excited by the very idea of life. Nick, on the other hand, had no energy.

  
“I-I think I’m going to stay here. I’ve already been out,” he gestured toward the door for emphasis. Jay pouted but nodded. It was a fair argument. Thankfully, he didn’t push the matter. Any other one of Nick’s friends or family would have prodded at him to come until he gave, including Daisy.

  
“Whatever you want to do, Dante,” Jay shrugged, “I’ll be back later. If you’re still up, we can watch a movie or something?” Jay suggested, already halfway out the door. Nick snorted to himself.

  
“You would still have energy for that?”

  
Jay smiled one last time before disappearing behind the door, winking his departure. Nick was again alone. It was the first time since that morning. He had been just barely holding it together since then. Even then, it was for the sake of others around him. There was no reason to keep it together now.

  
Nick sank in his chair, drooping over the table and burying his head in his arms. No tears, no heavy breathing. Just a full body sigh as he let wave after wave overwhelm him. The only thing keeping him from flying out of his body was the weight on his heart. This was dangerous. He had been in this place before. If he stayed too long, each wave would drag him out farther into the sea of his thoughts. It could take months to swim back out. He lifted his head off his arms and took a deep breath. Nick kept his eyes closed, refusing to see the room and crappy furniture. A similar war from before wrestled inside his chest. He yearned for home, for something sure. Home, everything was planned for him, set. There were no surprises. His life was planned out. But if anything terrified him more than the unknown it was being trapped in a box, molded into something he didn’t want. His voice would be taken away. But what if taking away his voice was a good thing? Did he have anything of worth to say? He was going to tear himself apart, right here in this half living room half kitchen. His body began to shake from the internal screaming of “Yes” and “No”. Hot and Cold. Home and Freedom. Family and Self. Tradition and Change. A tortured sob burst from his chest and his head fell back down on the table.

  
He had to drag himself out of this. Still trying to calm his heavy heart, he lifted himself out of the chair with difficulty. Angry tears began to prick at his eyes. A bad mood shouldn’t be affecting him physically. How humiliating. He was just glad that no one was around to witness his struggles. The books stuffed onto his shelfs offered a little comfort. While most of his belongings were still packed, his bed and books were at the ready. That was all he needed right now. Nick grabbed a random novel, kicked off his shoes and pants and crawled under the covers. He began to read, but it wasn’t what he really needed. What he really needed was a million more blankets to weight him down, and his mother’s arms around him. He needed someone to whisper that it was going to be alright, either way. But his mother wasn’t here. And in any case, she had never been one for cuddling, not that his father would allow his son to be coddled. He was an adult now, dammit.

  
The words on the page became blurred and Nick realized that his cheeks were hot because tears were trailing down them. Holding in for a few seconds longer, he reached over to put the book back and turn the light off. In the dark, he was free to cry as much as he would like. And it was wonderful. His chest ached with the power of his sobs, his arms sore from squeezing himself. Nick let it escape, like a soda can that had been shaken up and then put into a freezer. All of the emotion escaped out of him. The pain of being away from home, the influence his father had over him even from hundreds of miles away, the stresses of being his own man and finding that he wasn’t a man at all: it all escaped in every tear. They dried on his cheeks, making his face feel tight. Yet, he continued to cry. Even after his eyes had run out of tears to give, he chest still heaved up and down. Pitiful, wounded whimpers passed through his lips. How long was it? An hour? Two? No matter, he eventually slowed to a stop. Sleep still stayed away, abandoning him to his thoughts once again. Only now, he thought of Jay.

  
If he was able to, he would’ve kicked himself. Jay had been so excited at the prospect of spending the night with his roommate. Afterall, roommates had such opportunity, extending all the way from partners in crime to friends for life. But Nick had denied him of the precious bonding moment. Instead, he had opted to subject himself to this emotional torture. This all could’ve been avoided. Well, probably not. It could’ve been delayed. On top of that, another stress would’ve been lifted from his shoulders. He would’ve gotten to know Jay better as a confidante. Nick just knew he would regret this. He came to college with the expectation of living his best life. So far, it had been filled with crying. Was jay angry with him for turning him down? If he was, would he forgive him or would this first meeting be stuck in the back of his head for the rest of their time together? It definitely would stick with Nick. He had behaved awfully to Jay, and he seemed like the best of men. He groaned and flipped over to shove his face into his pillow. Jay was probably trying to figure out how to switch roommates at this very moment. The click of the front door interrupted this irrational reverie.

  
Jay silently entered their room, courteous enough to leave the lights off. “Dante?” he whispered. Nick kept his mouth shut and let his eyes close. Jay waited, but not for long. Nick listened closely as Jay shuffled around, getting ready for the night. Several times he had to stifle a laugh whenever Jay bumped into something. Thump. Swear. Sigh. Shuffle. Nick listened to the water run as Jay brushed his teeth, no doubt washing away traces of alcohol. What else did freshmen do when they went partying? The bed across the room creaked as Jay climbed in. Again, he sighed and shifted around _a lot_.

  
“You really asleep, Old Sport?”

  
Nick snore. Jay hummed.

  
“Good night, Old Sport.”

  
It wasn’t going to be good, but still, Nick appreciated the sentiment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry guys, Jay will take care of Nick. He won’t be this sad forever.


	3. Lucy Liu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, most of this chapter is just getting to know each other more. A lot of it is just conversation and fluff. Enjoy it while it lasts

 “Morning, Old Sport!”

  
It was far too early for Jay to sound so chipper, especially for someone who had been partying the night before. In some sort of sick reversal of roles, it was Nick’s head who pounded at the light and the all too loud greeting. Still in his t-shirt from yesterday and now some bottoms, Nick staggered into the common room. He blinked at Jay, the morning light catching in his hair, making him too bright to look at. Nick looked down and gave his face a slap a few times, trying to wake up. He grunted in return. Jay laughed.

  
“You’re chipper,” he remarked, crossing over from the kitchenette with two cups of coffee. “Here, perk you up a little,” he offered one mug to Nick.

  
“Why are you not hungover?” Nick failed at blinking the sleep away.

  
“Oh I don’t drink,” Jay waved his hand as he sat across from Nick.

  
Nick took exactly one sip and put the mug down. He tried his best not to make a face. He really did. Jay liked his coffee strong and very black. Nick, the shameless sweet tooth he was, did not. This would have been an easy remedy if they had any milk or sugar. “Thank you,” he resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. A younger Nick would not have held back.

  
“You don’t like it.”

  
“No it’s…great.”

  
“Nope. Come on, let’s get you some decent coffee. My treat.” Jay took a large swig from his own mug before standing up. “You can have the shower. I already showered earlier.”

  
Nick’s head still pounded from the monster of a cry last night, his eyes still shot, but he was slowly beginning to adjust. With a heart sore sigh, he padded to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He gave the mirror a withering glance, scowling down his bed head. His hair was all fluff and sticking out every which way. Add some glasses and a shade darker, he could be Harry Potter. He unsuccessfully tried to make it lie flat just as his childhood hero had done numerous times throughout the books. Nick gave up quickly. It didn’t matter. All his hair would be wet in a moment anyways.

  
He turned the water on, letting it heat up until steam began to fill the small bathroom. Only then did he step behind the curtain. The stream of water was too hot, most likely to turn his skin a vibrant red. Just the way he liked it. The hot water was comforting as it splashed all over him. He stood with his head directly under the faucet, not thinking of anything at all. The heat washed away the soreness from last night. He felt the stain of his breakdown leave him, swirling down the drain. Nick neglected to actually use any soap, opting for just standing there, apathy his chief drive at the moment. After about five minutes, he turned off the water. He could pretend he felt cleansed, but knew he never would be. Not really.

  
Nick towelled off quickly, combing his hair into submission. But as he went to hang the towel back on the rack to dry, he realized with burning cheeks he had forgotten something. His clothes were still half unpacked, some still in boxes, some in his dresser. But none had been brought with him into the bathroom. Nick couldn’t stand the humiliation of having to leave the bathroom with nothing but a towel. Let alone in front of his new roommate. Jay had probably been smart enough to bring his change of clothes in with him. Why couldn’t Nick just think before he acted! Resigning himself to his mistake, he wrapped the towel around his waist, covering up as much as he could without the possibility of being teased for being “feminine”.

  
Jay looked up when Nick entered the room but was polite enough to immediately look down and away. He stared very hard at the book perched on his knee, back facing Nick’s side of the room. Nick didn’t look at what clothes he chose to put on. This was no time to be Tan from Queer Eye. Any clothes would do. The towel hadn’t even hit the floor before he was hurriedly pulling on a pair of jeans. The shirt mussed his hair as it brushed past his head. Nick sighed and sunk onto the edge of his bed, back to Jay.

  
“Don’t worry,” Jay spoke up after a minute, “I forgot my clothes too. But, then again, you were asleep.”

  
Nick nodded before realizing Jay couldn’t see him. The bed across the room creaked as Jay slid off it. Nick glanced over his shoulder. Jay had put the book down (one of Nick’s copies, he noticed) and had his hands on his hips again.

  
“Right. Coffee.”

  
Jay dragged a not too unwilling Nick around campus. They tried coffee cart after coffee cart, looking for the best one. Jay even pulled a laugh out of Nick as they debated all the pros and cons. After all, Jay had informed him, there were many aspects to a good coffee cart. Distance from dorm, average wait, how cute or friendly the barista is, and, of course, the actual coffee quality. Jay took their research “seriously”. Nick was having a harder time doing so.

  
Already a smile was creeping onto Nick’s face as Jay made a show of smacking his lips after their third stop. “Hmmm,” he drew out before taking another sip. He handed the cup to Nick, who refused.

  
“I won’t take your coffee.”

  
“It’s our coffee.”

  
“It’s your coffee. You paid for it.”

  
“For you, though.”

  
Nick sputtered, and filled his lack of response by taking a sip from the cup Jay had bought for him at the first stand.

  
“Come on, I need your opinion. We need to collect data,” Jay insisted, pushing the cup towards Nick again. Nick still shook his head but hid his smile behind his own cup.

  
“Old Sport!” Jay implored, eyes wide and pleading. Nick couldn’t help the burst of laughter.

  
“Oh my god! Are you actually trying puppy eyes right now?”

  
“Is it working?”

  
Nick narrowed his own eyes, pursing his lips before snatching the cup. Jay let out a jubilant cry as Nick took a sip. He copied Jay’s early action, smacking his lips and handed the cup back.

  
“The first one is better and closer. I’m sorry, but you wasted your money.”

  
“Not at all!” Jay took another sip from their shared cup, “If I hadn't spent the money and bought the coffee, then we wouldn’t have ever known which one was better. Now we do. Science.” Nick rolled his eyes but laughed nonetheless. So Jay obviously wasn’t a science major. Or economics. He didn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders in either field.

  
“Well, I’m paying you back for this,” Nick gestured to his own cup.

  
“Not a chance, Old Sport.”

  
Now fully awake, both from the walk and from Jay’s lively personality, Nick lowered his own cup and watched Jay from the corner of his eye. He was looking cheerfully around at the surrounding campus, occasionally pointing candid moments out to Nick. Even just closing his eyes to relish in the fresh morning air. Jay’s eyes always seemed alight with all the excitement in the world. Never had Nick met anyone who was so...optimistic about life. Everything was beautiful to him, from bewildered students to graffiti on a garbage can. Nick couldn’t understand how trash or street art could be beautiful. But Jay was convinced of its humanity, and that’s what made everything so beautiful. Nick couldn’t see why humanity was beautiful either.

  
His own father had always been so insistent that humanity and the like were made up of liars, cheaters and crooks. “Rotten. All people are rotten. Even me. Even you.” Mr. Carraway had a weird habit of dishing out little “pearls” of wisdom at random times. That had been one. Another one of his favorites had been, “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages you’ve had.” Nick never really understood what his father meant by these when he was younger. He was just a young boy. How was he supposed to use this knowledge? But his father had repeated such phrases often enough that Nick figured they must be important. So he remembered them, and tried his best to live by them. At least, to live by what he thought they meant.

  
“What?” Nick came to, noticing that Jay was looking at him expectantly again.  
“Oh, we’ve got a deep thinker here!” Jay chuckled and ruffled Nick’s hair lightly. Nick didn’t mind too much. It reminded him strongly of Daisy. And he was coming to accept that Jay seemed to be more of a hands on type of guy.

  
“I was just asking what your major is. Or, if you’ve one chosen yet?”

  
“Economics.”

  
“That’s..interesting!” Jay tried hard to sound enthusiastic.

  
“At ease, soldier,” Nick sighed, the smile fading from Jay’s face, “I know it’s not. No need to sound happy for me.”

  
“If you don’t think it’s interesting, why take it?”

  
Nick didn’t know how to answer that. It was just something that had always been expected of him. It was a useful major, one that could branch into many careers. Nick told Jay so.

  
“Hmm,” Jay nodded, yet his confused frown remained. “What’s the point of doing something if you’re not passionate about it? What are you passionate about?”

  
“Writing, I guess.”

  
Nick didn’t guess. He had adored writing since he was little. Apart from reading, writing his own stories was his favorite past time. Once he showed his dad a collection of his works and told him of his plans to be a writer. His father barely spared a glance for the stack of well-loved papers before he grunted, “Do something useful, Nick.”

  
“What’s your major?” Nick asked, desperate to turn the spotlight away from himself. Jay shrugged and tossed his empty cup as they walked past a garbage can.

  
“Business? I’m not sure yet, but that seems to be the path for me. I’ve got quite the knack for it,” he smiled to himself. Obviously, Nick was missing something here and he wasn’t all to sure that he wanted to know what that was. Nick absently looked at the time on his phone and nearly choked on his last sip of coffee.

  
“Mm! Speaking of majors, I’m gonna be late to my first class!” Nick turned on his heel and began to jog in the other direction.

  
“Want me to walk with you? Or run with you?” Jay called after him. But Nick was already too far away. He waved his hand in a negative motion, signaling for Jay to stay where he was. “Well, I’ll see you back in our room. We can have that movie night!” Nick pretended not to hear him. It was embarrassing to be the person being shouted at across campus, their plans on display for the world. Nevertheless, he smiled to himself. He decided he liked Jay Gatsby. This was going to be a fun year.

 

True to his word, Jay had a whole array setup ready for the movie night. Nick’s last class ended at five, which gave them plenty of time to enjoy a movie and go to bed early enough. During the day, he had almost forgotten about Jay’s promise. Expectations and promises of late nights piled up in his mind and sat on chest until he could no longer breathe. It was a good thing he had Jay to help take the load off.

  
Nick was hit with the smells of all kinds of take out when he opened the door. Cartons and boxes of food covered the table. He looked wildly around for Jay and found him sitting in front of their old, crappy TV; sorting through a collection of DVDs he must have brought with him. Jay looked up at the sound of the door.

  
“Old Sport! You’re here!” Jay lowered the movies and shifted his weight onto the back of his heels. Nick made an exasperated honking sound, much like a startled goose, and gestured to the mountain of food.

  
“Oh that,” Jay stood up, as if he had forgotten he blown an entire three weeks salary on takeout. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just got...well, everything I guess.” He looked over his purchase with pride, hands on hips again. “We’ve got pizza, Chinese, Mediterranean, sushi, I think some fries, too,” he pointed to each food group in turn. “Any of those sound good?” Jay looked over at Nick, concern suddenly striking his face. For the first time it looked like he might regret his decision. If Nick said no, he had just made a horrible mistake. Instead, Nick laughed.

  
“They all sound great. I’ll just-” Nick swiped the box of noodles which Jay’s hand was resting near. Jay tried to cover his adamant cry of despair. He didn’t cover it very well. Nick smirked and took his prize over to the couch.

  
“So, what’re we watching?”

  
Jay quickly got over his loss of the noodles, his excitement restored by the mention of a movie. He grabbed a box of pizza and set it next to Nick before retrieving the pile he had previously been going through. He sat next to Nick, almost sitting on top of them. Nick choked on his noodles and scooted over a good bit.

  
“What we have here, are all the classics. The must-sees. Please tell me you’ve seen at least one of these.”

  
Jay displayed his choices to Nick: the “classics”. Nick hummed to himself in thought as he looked the cases over.  
“All of these were banned in my house. We weren’t allowed to see any of them.”

  
Jay’s mouth dropped in horror. “So you haven’t seen any of them!”

  
“No, I’ve seen them all.” Nick ate his noodles nonchalantly. Though, he did struggle to keep a straight face at Jay’s bewilderment.

  
“Oh! So you’re a little rebel, are you?” He smirked at Nick as he went to put in one of the discs.

  
“No. That was my sister. I was just her unfortunate tag along and alibi.”

  
Jay plopped back down next to Nick after turning off the lights, respecting his space this time. “No, I can tell. You were a rebel. What’d you do, read all the banned books?”

  
“Oh yeah. I was real dangerous with all those books. Uncontrollable. A kid from hell.”

  
Jay nodded seriously, looking almost afraid for a moment before they both busted up. They laughed, with only the light of the tiny screen to light their faces and greasy food. The sniggers continued through the opening scene. Which was in itself highly inappropriate since Jay had put in Kill Bill. But they only riled each other up more. No attention was paid to the movie for the rest of the night; not between the laughter, snarky critiques, and mutual love of Lucy Liu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s be honest, who doesn’t love Lucy Liu? 
> 
> And yay! Nick is becoming more comfortable. He’s still a stress jellybean, but he can handle it. Maybe. We’ll see. 
> 
> Also, Babymoose_babyangel left a very cute, very good suggestion (not really but I took it as one) in a previous comment. If you guys want to see anything included, just comment and let me know! I’m also on tumblr by the same name and you guys can ask me things there too!


	4. Newspapers and Egg Rolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe trigger: Nick is very self-down putting (is that a word) in this chapter.

The professor was kind, if not more than a little startling. His coke bottle glasses only magnified his eyes when he stared students down. So this was why everyone knew him as Owl-Eyes. He taught his course in a classic lecture hall. His voice was soft, and yet it still carried all the way to the back row. He paced back and forth for his audience as he discussed the brain and the science of psychology. Nick was only in this class to help with his loathed study of economics. This was the portion he actually enjoyed: the thinking behind it all. Scrap the graphs and charts. The psychology of choice was where it was at. Markets were hardly tempting enough to keep Nick in his chosen major. He only stayed for the analysis of human behavior. That and fear of disappointing his father. But sitting in Professor Owl-Eyes class made him want to switch his major all together to a subject he had no experience with. He wasn’t the only one disappointed when the class was dismissed.

  
“Next week, we’ll discuss the concept of identity. Don’t forget your paper on-” the rest of his announcements was lost to the mass shuffle of papers, bags and feet. _Week one and already a paper._ Nick slung his bag over his shoulder, the weight immediately pulling him down. This was going to be interesting. He wandered around the building a bit, not enough time between his classes to go back to the dorm and relax. This didn’t bug him. His next class was an English course and he couldn’t wait. It was one of the required courses of freshman year. He intended to enjoy it while it lasted. In his wanderings, he came across a room too small to be a classroom, and definitely too cluttered.

  
The doors were wide open but no one was in there. He leaned in, just taking a peak at the dusty desks. Old editions of newspapers were spread across the walls along with award winning pieces, contacts, and other papers Nick couldn’t make out. Heart in his throat, he figured out what room he was trespassing into: this was the school newspaper.

  
His feet dragged him forward, further into the room, hand coming to rest on one of the desk tops. This early in the year, it wasn’t up and running yet. At least, it didn’t look like it. Maybe everyone was just out getting coffee and would be angry upon finding Nick here when they got back. He didn’t care. The room had an energy akin to a live wire: crackling even when no one was in here. Nick wanted to take it in as much as possible. No doubt his father wouldn’t be entirely enthralled if Nick took time out of his studies to write. Still, his fingers hummed as he dragged them along the desk, millions of words flying before his eyes as he thought of all the possibilities. Editorials, political columns, human interest stories, reviews. Of course, journalism wasn’t his forte but it was writing. He would take any chance he could get to join, to write.

  
His fingers trailed off the desk and he dropped his head. He couldn’t join. There was no way it would work out, no way he could keep it a secret. Besides, how would he have time to balance the responsibility and his own personal problems? Not that he had any problems. He was a well-balanced, healthy human: a fact he had to remind himself of regularly. At times he doubted if that was true. But Carraway’s didn’t have room for doubt. The room, which until a few seconds ago, only filled him with a weight, sinking his heart down to his stomach. Reluctantly, he left. Maybe another time, another life.

  
His English class was taught by a small woman, almost as small as Daisy. Her name was Paulson, and she filled the room with a passion for books, even reaching the students who were just there for the credit. She had the habit to go off on tangents, Nick soon found out. Just in the first class she had become sidetracked three times. Once about pens. Several times about her reading list. Of course, Nick had read all the books she mentioned. The true classics. And not Kill Bill type classics. Dickinson (he preferred Emily to Charles), Homer, Shakespeare: authors who were actually entertaining but had been spoiled by the classroom for most people. After the class got out, Nick stayed behind to swap lists with her and accidentally stayed for an extra hour. He rushed out, nearly forgetting to thank Paulson for sitting and talking with him. She most certainly had more important things to do, time that was being wasted on Nick but he still appreciated her sacrifice.

  
Nick skipped going home. Instead, he went straight to the library. He found a nice quiet table tucked away in a corner. No one to disturb him here: he could begin his essay in peace. He whipped out note cards, pens, his laptop and was all set to go. Everything was perfectly organized. There should be no reason why Nick shouldn’t be able to work. He had his quiet and his station. Yet, when it actually came to writing the essay, he had nothing. Blank. He tried and started over many, _many_ , times. Even the research was hard to begin. He tapped the side of his forehead in agitation. This was just supposed to be a simple, introductory essay, a way to show Owl Eyes what they were capable of. Which, in Nick’s case, appeared to be nothing. He sighed, sinking in the creaky library chair. The feeling that he just wasn’t college material took over him again. Somewhere, a small logical thought told him that he must be capable of something. After all, he had gotten in to college for a reason.

  
But Nick didn’t like to listen to logic. It was illogical. He slammed his laptop shut and was met by a myriad of shushes. There was no way he was going to make it. Hell, he couldn’t even complete his first assignment. How was he going to do four years of this let alone a couple months. Any day now, he would get a letter apologizing that there must have been some mistake, he didn’t really belong here. They would kick him out. Right of them to do so, really. He couldn’t manage this. He couldn’t pull this off. He didn’t have the talent, the brains. Even just in this library alone everyone else was superior. They were going places. He would be left behind. What was he but dirt underneath their feet? Nick almost growled at himself as he stuffed his tools back in his bag. He had to _stop_ going down this route, stop thinking like this. If this continued, he really would end up nowhere. Still the persistent chant of _you don’t belong here_ echoed inside.

  
He was still teetering on the edge of despair and self-doubt when he walked into his room. The dorm room was empty, Jay wasn’t back from classes yet. Good. That gave Nick time to work through...whatever he was working through right now. However, he was afraid if he thought too long, too hard about his emotions, the dam would break. And when it broke, there was no telling when it would stop. He didn’t want to be a mess when Jay got home. Their relationship was still new. It didn’t need more fuel to the already rocky start. So maybe he would just put “working through it” off for a later date. Who knew when that would be. It could be anywhere between a couple hours to a couple months. Knowing Nick, it would be closer to a couple months. Then it would be too late to work through it. No, this would be a full blown meltdown. Fun times.

  
Nick went to reheat some left over egg rolls from last night. Thanks to Jay’s frivolous spending, they now had enough microwave worthy meals for the next couple of days. But reheated egg rolls are never as good as they are fresh. “This must be what college tastes like. Depression and crappy food,” Nick thought as the egg roll squished. Fantastic. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up gaining that dreaded freshman fifteen. Especially if Jay was planning to live on take out and take out leftovers. Nick had never been the type for working out and that wouldn’t start now. If he became a little more squishy, so be it. ‘Twas a noble price to pay for orange chicken.

  
Jay was home by the time Nick had finished with the most disappointing meal of his life. Once again, he had tried to get a jump on his essay with no luck. He looked up from the couch as Jay rummaged through the mini fridge. It seemed like he planned to have a depression meal too. He didn’t seem to be in his usual high spirits but it didn’t take him long to perk up. Jay was already smiling by the time the microwave beeped. He had to chew extra hard at his soggy pizza slice. The sound wasn’t pleasant, even with Jay’s mouth closed. He grimaced as the glob went down but went straight back to smiling at Nick.

  
“How’s it going, Old Sport?”

  
Nick shrugged, hands high up in the air before they crashed back down at his sides.

  
“I feel that,” Jay hummed, taking another bite of pizza. Since Nick had already laid claim to the couch, Jay set up at the table. Of course the bedroom was available for more private study, but neither really wanted to be alone. Birds of a feather, struggle together. Jay flipped through a textbook while Nick still sat blankly in front of his computer. Once in a while he would write down a sentence, but only to delete it. He finally gave up for the second time that day. _It’s just a fluke day, not you._ Nick tried to reassure himself. But with every positive thought, that tortuous chant grew louder. _You don’t belong here. You don’t belong here_. Nick jumped when Jay clapped his textbook shut.

  
“I think that’s enough for now.” Nick huffed in agreement. “How was your day, Old Sport?”

  
Nick noticed that this was the second time in about two sentences that Jay had called him Old Sport, but he let it slide. Maybe Jay would turn out to be just as odd as Nick could be.

  
“It was fine. Spied on the newspaper room. Talked about books. Not too bad,” Nick lied, staring at his feet at rest on the coffee table.

  
“Newspaper? Like writing? Are you going to join?” Jay’s voice grew in excitement with every question. Nick was strongly reminded of a child. He laughed and shook his head.

  
“No. Don’t have the talent or the time.”

  
“Don't have the talent!” Jay sputtered. He rose from the table and left to their bedroom. He came back a few seconds later. With him was Nick’s book he had stolen yesterday. “Don’t have talent my ass!” and he tossed the book onto Nick’s lap. Nick stared at the tattered cover for a few seconds before looking up at Jay.

  
“I didn’t write this,” he spoke as if explaining to a child. Jay rolled his eyes.

  
“I know _that_! I’m talking about the annotations. Anyone who can write like that about someone else’s writing must have some talent. True, I’ve never read any of your work, but you should do this! Try it out! Make time if you don’t have it!” Jay was on his knees next to Nick, hand firmly on his shoulder. Even with the “rousing” speech, Nick was still unsure. He knew he wasn’t good enough to make it. Why set himself up for failure. But something told him that Jay wasn’t going to give up until he knew that Nick had tried his hardest. Or, at least said yes.

  
“Alright, I’ll try,” he muttered, shaking Jay’s reaffirming hand off of him.

  
“Cool!” Jay walked back to the table to collect his things. “Now that that’s taken care of, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  
_Oh boy_. “Yeah? What?” Jay smiled at the near dead in Nick’s voice. He almost laughed. Nick couldn’t help the feeling that Jay thought he was ridiculous, weird. He tried to shake it away but it settled in the back of his brain.

  
“There’s going to be a party on Friday. Kind of like, a beginning of the year party. It’s on the first floor. I was wondering if you wanted to go? It’ll be really cool. People open their doors and set up their rooms up and down the hall. Sounds like fun! So, wanna be my date?” Jay laughed. It was a good thing that he was looking away at that moment, or he would have seen the fear that struck across his face. _Date? No I don’t want to be his date!_ Nick got his face in check before Jay turned around. He managed a weak smile.

“I don't think so. Doesn’t sound like my scene,” he hoped he didn’t offend.

  
“Oh. Well, if you change your mind…” Jay shrugged and finished picking up his stuff. He nodded once to Nick before disappearing to their room. He yelled something about showering to Nick. A few seconds later the water began to run.

Nick breathed out slowly, solitude guaranteed for at least a few minutes. What had Jay meant by ‘date’? Surely he wasn’t implying...he didn’t suspect...because he would be wrong. Nick wasn’t. 100% not. How many times had he been warned against that type of sinner over the pulpit, from his teacher, from his father? No, Jay hadn’t meant anything by it. He was being funny. Just trying to be funny. He didn’t know. There wasn’t any possible way he could know. Nick had been so careful. Not that there was anything to be careful about. Because he didn’t feel that way. He never would, or never...had.

  
Nick drew in a shuddering breath after holding it in for so long. He didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath. He hadn’t realized that tears at started to prick at his eyes either. _Stop it. What are you even crying for?_ Still, years came. He took the last few minutes he had by himself to push them back down and to get his breathing in order. What Jay didn’t see, Jay didn’t have to know. It was better that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if I’m completely honest, this chapter kind of felt just like a filler to me. Another set up before we start getting to the real events. But hey, I guess it did introduce some important aspects. 
> 
> As always, I love your guy’s comments and feedback! I try to respond to all of them because I appreciate the heck out of you guys! So don’t be shy! I’d love to hear from you!


	5. Cookies and Solo Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Trigger: Nick gets a little more upset and doesn't deal with it very well. BUT! It does end on a happier note.

“Mail Call!” Jay’s shout from the common room startled Nick awake. Though it was still early, he was glad Jay had woken him up. He had been dreaming. Well not really dreaming. He knew it was a nightmare from the way his heart was beating and the lingering, chill presence of fear. Of course, he couldn’t remember anything from it. All memory of the ordeal left his mind when he opened his mind, light chasing away the darkness. Nick wiped the sweat from his forehead before following Jay’s voice into the common room. A decent sized cardboard box was resting on the table. Jay was already reading his own letter. 

“For you,” he nodded towards the box, a small smile on his lips. Nick wasn’t sure if he was smiling out of politeness, from his letter, or from Nick’s bedhead. He didn’t ruminate too long on the matter. He had a package to get to! It was a care package from his parents. Mainly from his mother he guessed. There was no personality to it, but wasn’t expecting personality. It was the thought that counted. The majority was sweets, a few home baked, most store bought. But it was expensive store bought, which made it ok in his parents eyes. Amid all the treats was a letter addressed to him in his father’s hand. He gently took the letter out, feeling the light weight in his palm. Whatever his father had to say to him could wait. All he wanted to do right now was eat some cookies and then go to class. 

“Do you want some?” he offered a cookie to Jay, his own mouth all ready full. Disgusting he knew, but he had an excuse: the cookies were damn delicious. That in itself excused any and all bad manners. Jay shook his head while laughing, and took the cookie with a thank you. The Friday morning and the package had set him in high spirits. Even though it was week one, Nick was all too ready for the weekend. It had been a harrowing week, breakdown after breakdown. Perhaps next week would be better. Hell, if his day continued to go great he might rethink Jay’s previous invitation and check out the party with him. It couldn’t be too bad. He would just drop by. No one said he had to stay the entire time if he went. Nick was cheery as a got dressed. Even fluffy hair wasn’t enough to bother him at the moment. 

As he had hoped, the first half of his day went great. Even economics was endurable this morning. Between classes, he was able to start and finish his rough draft of that troublesome psych paper. His guardian angel must finally be paying attention to him. He felt blessed, clear, as he went back to his dorm for lunch. On the way, he stopped by the building where the school newspaper was. Why not try his luck? 

He knocked on the open door, peering inside. An older student looked up and smiled at him. 

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering how to join the newspaper?” 

The student got up and led him inside, showing him around the newsroom, pointing out important places such as the editor’s desk, etc. 

“To join you would need a few audition pieces, past experience. Our editor will read them and let you know in about a week or two. Sound good?”

“Yep. And do I just...turn them in here, my pieces?” 

“Yeah, just bring them all on a hard drive.”

The student finished explaining what types of pieces Nick needed, deadlines and responsibilities. The longer they spoke, the more excited Nick got. This was something he could actually do! And do  _ well _ ! There wasn’t as nearly as much pressure as he had built it up to be in his mind. Jay had been right to push him. There was no reason why he couldn’t do this: why he  _ shouldn’t  _  do this. Nick thanked the student and left quickly. He couldn’t wait to get started. He dared himself to envision his name on the paper, winning awards for his writing. Actual awards! His work, so long hidden, would be award winning. He knew he was getting ahead of himself: he wasn’t even on the paper yet. But he could be. No, would be! This was going to happen. Nick rode cloud nine all the way through his front door. He hummed to himself tunelessly and tone death, happier than happy. Well, not so much as happy. He had a nervous energy for the first time in years that wasn’t negative. It took a week to gain his excitement back, but here it was. The old Nick shone through for one glorious minute. He should’ve known that the higher he got, the farther and harder he would fall. But he was being too self-indulgent. He let himself be happy. For Christ’s sake, he deserved a little happiness. The universe was quick to remind him that he was entitled to no such thing.

The letter from earlier was still waiting on the table for him. He felt his good mood falter, but only a little. It was probably just a “I’m so proud of my college man” nonsense. There couldn’t be anything bad in it. Not in the first week. Not today. Nick bit into another cookie, putting the treats from earlier away. The longer he put it off, the more the weight of the unopened letter grew on his conscience. He stared down the letter from across the room until resigning himself. Nick grabbed the letter, another cookie, and settled himself on his bed. The letter began cordially enough:

 

__ __ _ Nick,  _

_ Your mother and I are very pleased with your decision to go to college. A long line of Carraways have attended that establishment. You have great taste, just like me. We are still the same here in Chicago. The house does seem a little more empty with you gone, but don’t worry. Joey fills the space and quiet. You always were more reserved than he is anyways. Sometimes I forget that you’re not here. I’ll call out for you to come to my study before I remember that you’re not here, you’re out building you own life. Hopefully a life that won’t be shameful to share with coworkers. I want to be able to brag about my son for once! Joey has his share of accomplishments and speaking about him is all good and well, but no matter what he does, it never gets rid of the irksome question. “Don’t you have another son?” Maybe now, or more likely in a year or two, I’ll be able to answer that proudly.  _

_ Speaking of Joey, he’s captain of the lacrosse team this year! Finally, another sports man in the family! Not that your more academic prowess isn’t impressive, you will no doubt know how excited I am that at least one of my children seems to have The Talent. Perhaps being in a new environment may encourage you to get outside more, or perhaps socialize more. I must admit, the past few years have been rather embarrassing. Why you insisted on staying in your room, during important parties no less...but I excite myself. To each man his own. Remember Nick, we mustn’t judge. I expect that you at least listen to my advice. Really, at this point, it’s the least you could do but the most I expect. Please, don’t lock yourself up all year. At least try to show some semblance of being alive. Several of my close work friends have children that also attend that college. The Greenes, Buchanans and Klipspringers. Get to know them well. I believe you went to St. Niles with a few of their sons. Hopefully you didn’t scrap any chance at a relationship during your time with them there. Connections are everything, son. You’ll know that when you take over the business one day.  _

__ _ Keep to your studies and you’ll see success. Stay focused. Stay Sharp _

__ __ _ Your father,  _

__ __ _ Nick Carraway Sr. _

 

Nick couldn’t believe what he was reading. He should have listened to himself, the warning in the back of his head as soon as he entered the apartment. Like a fool, he didn’t. Here he was, at college, his father’s college no less, and he still couldn’t make him proud. Years of hard work at that _ hellscape  _ that was St. Niles Prep school for Boys, and none of it had made Mr. Carraway proud. He stared at the words, venom blearing his eyesight. He didn’t need to see the words to have the message bounce around in his head. He was shameful, embarrassing, his existence an irksome question. But it went beyond that. Not only had his father neglected to praise him and snuff him all at once, he had requested,  _ insisted, _ that he become friends with the very boys who had been his tormentors. Don’t shut yourself away, Nick. Be sociable, Nick. Walk through hell, even though you do every day anyways, Nick. Maybe when your bruised and bleeding heart is upon a silver platter, ripped out by your own hand, will I be satisfied. Nick crumpled the letter and threw it in the direction of the waste paper basket. He missed, but was too drained now to be bothered to go and pick it up. What was he thinking? He didn’t have  _ The Talent _ . Nick laughed to himself angrily, shoving his palms into his eyes, squeezing out the tears. 

Ridiculous.  _ Fucking ridiculous! _ It had taken him 18 years but he finally realized where all his problems came from. No matter how far he stretched himself, no matter all that he did, he would never be able to make his father happy. After his older sister, he and Joey had been warned to never be like her. Or else they would end up the same: never mentioned, nonexistent, not a Carraway, cut off. But it didn’t matter. All his efforts were already invisible. His father would never hand the business over to him. It was always going to be Joey, the only child he was proud of. Time had come to throw it all to the wind if that was where is was headed anyways. 

Nick went to his remaining classes in a haze. He wasn’t even sure if they were taught anything. He sat in classrooms and lecture halls misty eyed and bitter. Relief evaded him as his last course was dismissed. The well wishes for a good weekend from the professor flew over his head. He had only one plan for this weekend and that was tonight. Alone in the world and more than a little humiliated, Nick had decided to get roaring drunk for the first time tonight. 

Parties weren’t really his thing. Sure, he had been forced to go to functions with his families. But a Gala was not the same as unchecked college party. He had no idea what to expect. Was he supposed to prepare somehow, bring something with him. The parties during high school had been closed off to him, and he wouldn’t have gone even if he was invited. This was entirely new to him. Hopefully it would come naturally to him. Doubtful. He changed into a more comfortable, more colorful shirt. His style had never been top notch. Daisy had told him once that Tan would be horrified by him. Nick didn’t know Tan, but surely his wardrobe couldn’t be that bad. His shirt had a vague 80’s feel about it. Who didn’t like the 80’s. Of course, what he was wearing didn’t really matter if he was only going to drown his sorrows. Still he couldn’t help but be a little self-conscience about it all. Clothes meant a lot to people. He finished revamping his hair when Jay walked in through the door. 

“Dante?” Jay called out, keys thumping on the table. Nick left the bathroom with a deep breath. 

“Is that...something different from earlier?” Jay gestured to his outfit.

“Yeah, is it ok for the party tonight?” 

Jay’s eyebrows shot upward. “Uh...yeah but I thought, I thought you weren’t going?” Jay passed Nick to go unload his bag onto his desk. 

“Plans change,” Nick muttered coolly, not really sure if Jay actually heard him or not. He impatiently checked his phone for the time. The beginnings of music and growing conversation could be heard down the stairs. And Nick realized while he wanted to go, he didn’t want to go with Jay. Jay, the non drinker. What would Jay do if he saw Nick’s behavior? Would he try to stop him? He couldn’t have that. 

“I’ll see you down there. Maybe.” Nick didn’t wait for an answer before he left their dorm room. 

Once down in the hall, surrounded by people far more happier than he, he grabbed the first questionable red cup he found. The liquid was foul and burned his mouth and throat. He very nearly spit it back out. It took every part of him to keep it down. The next sip was easier, if not still sharp in sensation. He finished the mix in the cup, not sure how long the party had been going on. This was his first time ever really drinking. Sure, he had known other boys who had drank their fair share in high school. But besides the occasional sip of wine at special occasions, Nick had never been around the stuff. He had been so concerned with being the perfect child. Now, he didn’t care. But his lack of experience also meant that he was the biggest lightweight the campus had ever seen. It only took one more cupful of the weird mix of drinks until he was giggling and far too loose. He was in a strange room, surrounded by strange people and loud noises. But he wasn’t panicked. Quite the opposite. He was enjoying himself! The letter was all but gone from his mind. Starting on his third cup would help it become nothing but a bad memory, maybe even a vague dream. 

He was watching people filter in and out of the room in a daze. Faces mixed together. Not one stood out. Not one until…

“Jay!” Nick called out from his corner. Jay’s familiar golden head swiveled at his name. He had been smiling, that wonderful large smile that he always had. But when he saw Nick it fell a little. It stayed in place simply by nature, but his eyes weren’t smiling. Nick couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Those beautiful eyes were still so bright, but it wasn’t with excitement or hope. It almost looked like...anger. Nick downed the rest of his cup. Well, let him be mad at Nick for drinking. Nick couldn’t afford to care. He stumbled over to Jay and crashed into his side. 

“You haven’t seen me all the entire time!” he almost whined, leaning heavily on Jay. 

“Oh dear God, what have they been giving you?” Jay couldn’t help the soft laugh the brushed across Nick’s brow. He lifted the smaller man on his own feet, while still supporting him. Jay took Nick’s cup from him and took a sniff before recoiling. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Pffft. So alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and swayed. 

“Ok, I think that’s enough party for you,” Jay tossed the cup into a nearby garbage bag.

“Awe! No! No it’s not! You don’t tell me what to do,” Nick leaned back from him, nearly falling over before he regained his balance. However, he leaned back forward a few seconds later and snorted in Jay’s ear, “No one tells me what to do. I’m free now!” He shouted, arms wide and goofy grin reinforcing his statement. 

“I see,” Jay said in a voice which meant he definitely did not see. “But, it’s more fun upstairs!”

“No it’s not,” Nick slurred, and pushed jay’s shoulder. It was more of a gentle tap before he stumbled backward. Jay quickly put an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. 

“Oh, I think it is. Come on, let’s go.” 

Jay practically carried Nick up the couple flights of stairs to their hallway. In fact, he practically dragged him through their door. Nick wasn’t the easiest person to deal with. He was a very floppy, stumbly drunk. All of his flopping and stumbling was interspersed with giggles. He ran his fingers through Jay’s hair, making a mess of it. 

“I knew it.”

“You knew what?”

“This shit is _ soft _ ,” Nick laughed and let go of Jay’s hair and nearly slipped out his arms. Jay laughed to himself while struggling to put Nick back on his feet. 

“Mhm. Whatever you say.” Jay flipped Nick onto his bed but Nick only sat back up and tried to get off. Jay had to push him back down again. Nick groaned and turned onto his side in a very pouty matter. 

“What’s wrong?” Jay prompted, actually finding the situation very funny, if not a little concerning. 

“You. You and your perfect face and perfect smile and perfect stupid everything. I bet your parents just love you,” he slurred to a point where he was nearly unintelligible. Jay stayed quiet for a long while. Nick let the silence sober his mood up. He was still drunk as before, but no longer happy about it. Keeping his eyes open made him dizzy. He buried his face into his pillow to try and stop the oncoming headache. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he slurred one more time into his pillow. A gentle hand rested on the back of his head, smoothing down his hair and rubbing his neck. 

“I know,” Jay whispered, some deeper sort of pain in his voice. Nick heard him shuffle around a bit. He helped take off Nick’s shoes and got his legs under his blanket. Jay clicked off the bedside lamp. The loss of the hand on the back of his head left him feeling more desolate then he had all week. Nick reached out wildly and grasped for Jay, catching his retreating hand. “Please...stay. Just, right here, please,” he whimpered pitifully. The blackness took over him before Jay could respond. 

Nick woke the next morning with sun glaring into his eyes. He groaned, the regret of drinking hitting him hard just at that moment with a bad case of hangover. He snuggled deeper into Jay’s chest and sighed into the cotton of his shirt.  _ Wait.  _ Nick jerked back as much as Jay’s arms allowed him. Jay was in his  _ bed! _ He shot upward quickly. Not the smartest idea. He clutched his head and groaned. Jay stirred beside him. 

“How are you feeling?” a familiar hand rubbed up and down his back. Nick recalled a similar motion from the night before. 

“What are you doing  _ in my bed! _ ” Nick hissed, whipping around to stare Jay down. 

“Because you asked me to. Do you not remember?” A deep blush was beginning to show up on Jay’s cheeks. “Oh god, I’m sorry. You were just so upset last night but you forgot and now I just look like I have no boundaries I’m so fucking sorry,” Jay said all of his very quickly and jumped out of the bed, still muttering apologies all the while. 

“No, don't. Don’t apologize. I should be the one who’s sorry. Of course you were obligated to make your mess of a roommate feel better. I’m sorry I asked...I didn’t know what I was doing.”

The bed sank next to Nick as Jay sat back down. He continued to rub his back. “No it’s fine. It was fun,” Jay tried to assure him, “Who else can say they’ve gotten to know their roommate this well in just the first week? Huh?”

“Yeah, and at least my pants are still on.”

“...only because I stopped you from taking them off...several times. You were pretty angry with me.” 

Nick’s head fell into his hands and he groaned. Jay only laughed and stood up. “I’ll get you some hangover food. Burgers? Mac n’ Cheese? How about both?”

Nick kept his head in his hands while Jay got dressed for the day, and he stayed that way until he heard the front door close behind him.  _ Oh God, am I in trouble now.  _ He couldn’t remember anything from last night. Not really. Once in a while, little tid bits would come through. Like the burn of alcohol, a light feeling, stumbling through empty staircases. And Jay. He remembered Jay. Nothing so specific, more of just his general presence in the later half of the night. What had he said to him? What had he told him? Hopefully nothing to embarrassing...or revealing. One thing was for sure: things were going to be  _ very  _ different between them. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's a mess. But who isn't? Also, my semi-beta reader said they read his dad's letter in Trump's voice and now my writing is officially dead to me. 
> 
> Love all your guy's continued support and love. I'm having so much fun writing this and seeing the responses!


	6. Sniffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick keeps panicking but this should be the last chapter that he does for a while

After the first week had finished, it was much easier to get into the flow of things. A summer of nothing had rotted his brain but now that he was back in the classroom, he picked his old academic ways spectacularly. As his father had instructed, he stayed sharp and focused. The hours blurred into days which blurred into weeks. Fall arrived, brining crisp air, the crunching of leaves under footfalls and pumpkin spice everything. Despite the cold, this was the time of year where Nick wanted to spend the most time outside. Which worked out best for him anyways because he had been trying to avoid Jay since that first Friday.

  
Of course, he couldn’t avoid him in all situations. They lived together, they were bound to see each other. But Nick still had his ways. He started to go to bed early, straight after studying to avoiding conversation. Jay might bring up that night, and the look on his face whenever he and Nick made eye contact confirmed just that. Nick was quick to rise, grabbing breakfast on his way out the door. He spent free time walking the campus paths, reading outside until the light became too weak. But whether his secluded behavior bugged Jay or not, Nick couldn’t tell. Really, he couldn’t tell a lot of things with Jay. There was no way that someone could be so constantly happy like he was. Nonetheless, he smiled and let Nick do his thing, gave him his space.

  
Whenever Jay did happen to catch him in an opportunity for conversation, he would just say hello and let Nick go. The hello was always cheerful. A “Hiya, Old Sport!” or “Keep it easy Dante.” However, the cheerful greeting didn’t distract Nick from the sidelong glances. Jay’s mask would remove and his face would drown in worry whenever he thought Nick couldn’t see him. Nick hated the close attention. Especially when it was so pitying.

  
Nick was happy to spend his autumn studying and reading. He had several books that were tradition to read this time of year. When it started to become too chilly to read outside, he was unsure if Jay would leave him alone to his books if he switched to inside. There was nothing to worry about. Jay apparently knew the dangers of interrupting someone while reading. He tried to reach out to Nick, but only in the most subtle of ways. He would bring him blankets or a cup of hot chocolate whenever he came home and Nick was reading on the couch. However, he never forced Nick to talk to him. Only dropped off his peace offerings and left to the other room. Nick began to worry that Jay might think he was mad with him, which was the exact opposite. Jay had been wonderful, the sweetest anyone could have been in that situation. It was himself he was mad at. But punishing himself was only hurting Jay.

  
One day Jay came home and did his usual of handing a blanket to Nick before leaving to the other room. “I’m not mad at you!” Nick blurted before Jay left. Jay stopped and nodded at Nick with a smile.

  
“I know.”

  
That was all he said. _I know_. Nick thought nothing of it until he was in bed that night. Jay’s comment had given him little comfort. Even if he did know, that still didn’t excuse how Nick had been treating him. But then another thought made Nick go stiff and cold. He said he knew. _I know_. But what did he know? He couldn’t know anything really important, unless Nick had blabbed to him while drunk. And never in a million years, even when drunk, would Nick tell anyone….would he though? Could it have slipped? Maybe Jay wasn’t worried about Nick avoiding him because he was avoiding Nick. He wouldn’t blame him. Nick would avoid himself if he could. Every so often he would be disgusted to remember that he existed in this body. This horrible, tainted body. But the taint wasn’t on his skin, it was on his soul. Isn’t that what the priest had always said over the pulpit?

  
Nick thought about the possibility of what Jay _actually_ knew all night, chewing his nails to nubs. He was still awake when the weak fall sun began to light up his window. He was still awake when the alarm buzzed. He was still awake when Jay stumbled off to the shower. Nick dressed quickly and left before Jay even turned the water off. He remained nervous all through the day. After his morning classes, he was supposed to stop by the newsroom and pick up his next assignment. But the newsroom was too loud, too crowded. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Nick continued to nibble on his nails, even when there was nothing there to chew. Irrational thought leading him, he left the campus. All he needed right now was a semblance of comfort and maybe someone who could think a little clearer than he could.

  
The walk was short and refreshing. A breeze pierced his lungs, making it harder to breathe fast. But while his breathing regained it’s control, his thoughts were still muddy. He knew he was being crazy, that he was being unreasonable. He just needed someone to confirm that for him on the off chance that he was right.

  
Her apartment wasn’t really an apartment. It was one of those old victorian houses that the city had preserved and converted into apartments. However, when Daisy bought it, she turned the old timey mansion back into a house. Actually, her house made Nick very nervous. It was too big for one person, and thus too empty. And the likelihood that it was haunted was very high. Nick had visited her last year for a day or two and had found a secret passage that someone had most definitely been murdered in. He spent the remainder of that trip in the carriage house turned guest room. It wasn’t much better. But Nick wasn’t going for the house. He was going for Daisy.

  
He stood across the street from the house for a while, the impressive architecture loomed over him. The house was dark, the giant oak tree painting the roof and lawn red with it’s fallen leaves. After a fortifying breath, Nick crossed the empty street and up the stone steps. At least it wasn’t creaky wood. The doorbell echoed through the house, a solemn gong. He couldn’t help but feel transported back a century or two. His recent reading of Dracula, Frankenstein and the like didn’t help his attitude. The entire mood flipped, however, when Daisy opened the door.

  
“Nicky!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him tightly, “I was wondering when you would stop by!” She led him inside, still hugging him tight. Nick let himself melt into Daisy’s embrace. He didn’t know how much he needed this, how long he had needed this. Though nearly a foot taller than her, he buried his face into the hair on top of her head. It would be so easy to break down right now. Daisy wouldn’t judge. Nonetheless, he kept it together. Just barely.

  
Daisy’s house was much more welcoming on the inside. The furniture was sleek and modern. The colors inside were dark too but warmer toned interspersed with pops of color. Nick sank into one of her armchairs. It was much more plush than it looked, which was the best kind of chair. He stretched out and tugged slightly at his hair, putting a finger to his mouth before remembering that he had gnawed everything away already. Daisy perched herself on the couch next to him and reached out to take his hand away from his mouth.

  
“What’s wrong, Nicky?” She had always been the one who could tell when he was upset. The nails were a dead give away: he had chewed away at them when extra upset since he was a boy. Nick shook his head and squeezed her hand back.

  
“I just need someone to tell me that I’m being crazy,” he sighed, closing his eyes. Daisy calmly rubbed circles on the top of this hand, humming as she thought to herself.

  
“Crazy about what?”

  
Nick shrugged. “I just…” He couldn’t explain to her. She didn’t even know. Nick was the only one who knew, and it would stay that way. He couldn’t explain why he was a mess without telling her everything. And he couldn’t do that. But Daisy didn’t need details to know what was wrong with Nick.

  
“You’re over thinking again, aren’t you?” Nick nodded. Daisy sighed and squished on to the armchair with him. She smoothed the hair off his forehead. “What am I ever going to do with you,” she placed a gentle kiss on top of his head. “What do you want me to say? That you’re being irrational?”

  
Nick nodded, eyes still closed tight.

  
“You’re being irrational. Whatever you’ve dreamed up, it’s not real. Time to wake up, Nicky,” she gave his cheek a pat before leaving the armchair. Nick opened his eyes, but Daisy was gone.

  
“I’ve got a class,” she called from the hallway. She reappeared wearing a rather bougie coat, “You can stay if you want. Just lock the door behind you, sweetie.” She blew a kiss to the still slouched, and rather messed up Nick before leaving out the front door.

  
For a moment, Nick thought he might just do that. Daisy’s house was more comforting than he remembered it to be. Turns out he couldn’t stay alone for long though. A strong wind had picked up outside, making the up stairs creak and groan. _Nope. Not today ghosts._

  
The wind whipped around Nick, the rain that had began to fall, pelting him angrily. Nick, like the fool he was, didn’t check what the weather was going to be like before he rushed out of his dorm that morning. If he had, he would’ve brought a coat, and he definitely wouldn’t have walked to Daisy’s. It took the rain little more than a few seconds to thoroughly drench through he thin sweater. The fabric stuck uncomfortably to his skin as he tried to run down the street. His entire view was impaired by a solid sheet of grey. Water dripped into his eyes from his hair. Wiping it away didn’t help. He sprinted across the campus, a few other unfortunates running around as well. But his dorm was clear across. By the time he reached he room, he fumbled for his keys, his hands shaking from running and from the biting cold. He nearly couldn’t fit the key into the lock once he did find it. His hands just wouldn’t stay steady. He sniffled and shivered from head to toe, finally making it in the door.

  
Nick had missed his afternoon classes, the hours passing away during the walk to and from Daisy’s and the short time he spent there. Jay was already home, watching a movie from his curled position on the couch. He jumped up when Nick walked in looking like a drowned cat. Jay jumped into action, wrapping a blanket around the soaked Nick, rubbing life back into his arms.

  
“What happened to you?” Jay exclaimed, forcing Nick to sit on the couch.

  
“It’s raining,” Nick’s voice wavered. Jay stared at him for a while.

  
“Really?”

  
Nick’s laugh turned into a sneeze. Jay handed him a packet of tissues and went over the to kitchenette. The cabinets banged open and closed while he searched. “What were you doing in the rain anyways?...with just a cotton button up?”

  
“I forgot to check the weather,” Nick said defensively, which didn’t sound at all intimidating since his voice shook throughout and it ended in a sneeze. Nick wrapped the blanket tighter around him, trying to keep out a chill that was already skin deep. “What’re you doing?”

  
“I should ask you the same thing! Go sit down!”

  
“No. What’re you doing?”

  
Jay finished getting out crappy pot typical of any college freshman, filling it with water and a non name brand of chicken noodle soup. “What does it look like,” Jay sighed. He tried to be exasperated but Nick saw the smile start to grow on his face. “I’m making you some soup.” The two watched the small, rinky dink pot, waiting for it to boil. Nick still shivered under the blanket like a man possessed, his shirt graphing to his skin. He pulled the blanket even tighter around himself, impressive since it was already at straight jacket levels. Jay shook his head.

  
“That won’t work. Take your clothes off.”

  
“ _Excuse me?_ ”

  
“Not in front of me,” Jay rolled his eyes and laughed. “Go and take a hot shower. Or at least change. You’ll get sick if you stay in those wet clothes.”

  
Nick shuffled out of the room followed by Jay’s laughter. He fell over once or twice while trying to wriggle out of his jeans. And he was sure he looked like a vague reenactment of some kind of demented pelican as he shook his shirt off his arms, flapping wildly. _The sexiest strip show ever._ He had to admit, changing into a sweater and some flannel bottoms did make him feel better. At least the shivering was down to a minimum now. Nick flopped onto his bed, running his hands through his wet hair. His head would no doubt leave a damp spot on his pillow. Nick didn’t care enough to move. He closed his eyes, feeling some spark of his panic from before. More like a painful memory now. If he dwelled on today long enough, the panic would no doubt return. He grabbed his fall read off his bedside table, focusing on the words rather than his emotions or the remaining cold.

  
Jay came in a few minutes later, carefully holding a bowl overfilled with cheap soup.

  
“Sorry, I forgot!” Nick started to get off his bed but Jay motioned for him to stay put. Nick tried to keep down his blush as Jay carefully made his way over. “Thanks,” he whispered when Jay set the bowl down on his nightstand.

  
“Sure thing,” Jay smiled at Nick. Nick held his gaze, feeling his own smile surface. For a moment, he was able to just let go and smile at Jay. However, their shared gentle smiles were interrupted by a mighty sneeze from Nick. Jay laughed and procured another pack of tissues from his pocket.

  
“Here you go invalid,” he chuckled to himself. “Promise to stay alive while I take a shower?”

  
“It’s not really up to me,” Nick sniffled for dramatic effect. Jay’s laugh followed him out of the room.

  
Nick tried to stay up for Jay, a new yearning to talk to him lighting his cheeks on fire. Or maybe that was just his rising temperature. He was down freezing Jay out. More than anything, he desperately needed a friend, and for that friend to be Jay. He needed to explain, apologize. But the trials from the day had worn him out. Even his book wasn’t enough to keep his eyelids from sagging shut. The shush of the shower finally lulled Nick to sleep, book on his lap, and soup half eaten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, why did this one take so long to finish? That last paragraph just did not want to get written.  
> Also, I did not edit this chapter. I might do it later, but I’m too lazy to do it right now. So if you find some mistakes, you know why. Ok just excited about the next chapter: Halloween! 
> 
> Question of the day: what do you guys think their Halloween costumes would be? Would love to hear all of your opinions!


	7. (An)Dante (An)Dante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys fix somethings and Jay has thighs

When Nick woke up one minute before his alarm, he could tell it was just going to be one of those days. Or one of those weeks apparently. His neck had an awful crick from sleeping in a funny position. Sharp pains shot down his neck through his spine as he struggled to sit up. In his sleep, a blanket had been pulled up around his shoulders and his book had been set on the nightside, carefully marked. There was no mystery as to who was responsible. Even the bowl of half eaten soup had been cleared away. Judging from the soft snores coming from Jay’s mess of a bed, he was still pleasantly asleep. Nick switched off his alarm as so to not wake Jay prematurely. It was close to that point in the semester where it was a scramble to get as much sleep as possible. Nick figured it wouldn’t be long until the both of them were running purely off of coffee and Monsters. That was only if his sister’s stories were anything to go by. 

He stretched himself out, down to each toe. It was a futile effort. Every muscle still ached, even each toe. He suppressed a groan, grabbing his non-responding legs to swing them over the side of the bed. The nerves of his feet jumped at contact with the hard, cool floor. Nevertheless he forced himself off the edge of the bed and onto wobbly knees. His bones creaked with every movement. Jay was sure to hear and wake up. The snoring continued. Every inch of Nick was sore from a night of shivering and awkward sleeping positions. He more stumbled than walked towards the shower. His entire body was drained: physically, emotionally, mentally. 

For whatever reason, he had decided to put himself through the fire (then the rain) last night. You would think a person would have more control over their thoughts, especially an adult. 18 didn’t really count as adulthood for most people; it was still so young. But Nick didn’t make that excuse. He knew better than to fly off the handle and bug his relations. This was no one’s fault but his own. 

He drooped at his reflection in the mirror. A wild-haired, puffy-eyed child stared back at him, drowning in a too big sweater that nearly hung off one shoulder. Delightful. He looked how he felt. As suspected, sleeping on wet hair wasn’t his brightest idea. His hair more resembled an Albert Einstein that had half of his head squashed up against a window. Nick found himself incredibly grateful that Jay hadn’t woken up yet. It was hard enough having the most embarrassing case of bedhead without your roommate having god tier hair. All. The. Time. Nick tried not to watch his reflection as he undressed. He could already see himself in his mind’s eye: pale, scrawny, knobbly and quaking like an odd mix between an 8 year old and an 80 year old. 

Not without difficulty, he finally succeeded in kicking off his pants with a flourish. He reflected on the first miserable five minutes of his morning. Maybe if he had listened to Jay’s advice to take a warm shower the night before, he might have been spared grandpa legs and a bad night’s sleep. At any rate, it would’ve been more beneficial last night than it was this morning. No point focusing on “would’ve’s” (though that was all he seemed inclined to do). He waited until the mirror began to fog up before hopping into the poor excuse for a shower. It was more a booth with a semi-clear door instead of a curtain. The tiles were suspiciously yellow. Nick liked to think they had always been yellow instead of the possibility of them turning yellow over time. He didn’t miss the luxuries he had in Chicago, but sometimes it was harder to adjust to college standard living. 

The drumming of the water against his neck lulled him into an apathy far away from yellow bathroom tiles and the bad decisions of last night. He closed his eyes to enforce the familiar feeling of nothing. The heat of the shower seeped away the chill that had rattled his bones since yesterday evening. He just rolled his neck around, letting the stream fall into his face, numbing his skin. Rolling water massaged his ancient (or what felt like ancient) muscles, soothing him. Demon thoughts demanded to break the serenity of his comfort, gnawing at the back of his mind. No, he did enough thinking yesterday. At least, it could wait a few minutes. He could wait until after he was dressed to worry about neglected studying, projects, damaged relationships, and his own twisted emotions. 

A hot shower was just what Nick needed to recharge. Sure, he was still exhausted and anxious beyond belief, but it wasn’t as prominent as it had been the night before. Jay had gotten ready in the time Nick had spent in the bathroom and was now seated at their rickety table, lamely munching on some toast. He sat up straighter when Nick came in, swiping crumbs from his hands. Jay’s smile couldn’t dampen the hint of caution in his eyes as Nick sat down from him with a cold pop-tart. 

“How are you feeling, Dante?” 

“Much better thanks to my nurse.” Would this be a good time to wink? It felt like it. Jay was always winking it seemed like, but Nick couldn’t pull off a wink. No winking. The moment had passed, and he was sure it would’ve felt out of place and awkward anyhow. It wasn’t like they were on that buddy buddy level. They were just roommates. Nick waited for Jay to relax after he announced he was feeling better, but that wariness remained in his gaze. 

“So,” he put the toast down and cleared his throat, “Are we good?”

“Good?”

Jay leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice, as if what they were talking about was forbidden. “With each other?” 

_ Oh _ . 

“If you want to go back to avoiding me, that’s fine,” Jay sighed in a way that meant it probably wasn’t fine, “Personally, I like talking with you and hanging out with you. But I understand if I make you uncomfortable or living with someone else makes you uncomfortable or,” Jay was babbling now, saying everything and nothing all at once. And Nick was only half listening. For the first time it really hit him how much of a shitty roommate he had been. He had abandoned Jay, who was probably excited at having a new friend. Every moment they had spent together, it never took them long to fall into comfortable conversation, like they had been friends for years. And on that night, Jay had taken care of Nick without a second thought. Nick’s stomach dropped the more he thought about, and the more Jay talked. He watched the words pour out of his mouth, not really hearing a single thing he said. 

“-I’m sorry I put you in that situation. I never would’ve stayed with you if I knew it would spark your anxiety so bad-”

“I don’t have anxiety.”

Jay stopped talking, mouth still open with his next word on the tip of his tongue. Nick looked down in shame. Here Jay was, not quite bearing his soul but close enough, and Nick had the gall to cut him off when he was the one who had caused all the heartache to begin with. Nick saw Jay’s hand twitch out the corner of his eye. For a fraction of a second, it looked as if he was going to reach out to Nick, but instead Jay drew his hand closer to himself. When it was clear Nick was going to speak up again, Jay cleared his throat and continued. 

“Well, uh, I’m sorry. And if there’s anything that I can do...to fix things…”

Nick looked back up, and stared mouth hanging open at Jay. Was he apologizing to  _ him?  _ This was completely backwards. Nick should be the one grovelling, not Jay. He had done nothing wrong. Jay had been nothing but a gentleman. 

“Stop talking,” Nick interrupted one more time, his voice sounding much stronger than he expected it to. Jay shut his mouth, his brow creasing in worry. The last thing he had wanted to do was make Nick more angry, and yet it looked like that’s all he succeeded in doing. Nick cleared his throat and looked everywhere except Jay. 

“I should be the one saying sorry. I’ve been stupid, and you’re so...nice,” Nick internally cursed his lack of words at the moment he needed them most. That didn’t seem to deter Jay. He was still listening intently. “I must be such a disappointment compared to what you were expecting,” Jay made a choked noise in protest but Nick pushed on, “You’re an automatic friend, but I fucked up what you got going. I  _ do  _ like you Jay. I like living with you. Sometimes I can’t explain or excuse what I do...I just...do it. I’m sorry you got stuck with me as a roommate, but if you want, I really want to be your friend. You’re the best person I’ve met here, and...well, we kind of need to be on good terms if this is going to work out.” 

Nick finally looked at Jay. To his pleasant surprise, he was smiling. His eyes were bright again, like they had been the first time he met Nick, or that time when they had that movie night. Smiling so wide must have hurt, but it looked natural on Jay. 

“Of course I want to be your friend, Dante!” He breathed, finally relaxing. Jay picked his toast back up and began to eat it more cheerfully than before. Nick felt a tremendous weight lift off his shoulders as well. Jay didn’t hate him. He hadn’t ruined anything! He had a friend. Suddenly, a cold pop tart for breakfast didn’t seem so gloomy. 

“So, we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?”

“Jay…”

Jay raised his hands in surrender, swallowing his last bit of toast. “Just checking,” he winked. See, Jay could pull off a wink, and he always knew when one was needed. He had the eyes to pull it off too. Not very many people had green eyes, especially eyes  _ that green.  _ His sister had a crush on an actor once that she swore had “candy apple green eyes”.  _ Jay’s eyes are candy apple green eyes _ Nick mused to himself. Face going hot, he realized he was staring. Of course he didn’t mean to. It always seemed that when he zoned out, it was always when he was looking at someone. Luckily for him, Jay wasn’t paying attention. He ran a hand through his hair, fixing it in a more fashionable place. Nick followed him with his eyes as he headed for the door. 

  
“Well, I’ll see ya later today, Old Sport,” he smiled over his shoulder, “And if we’re still good this afternoon, maybe I can convince you to come to a Halloween party with me? Just no beer this time,” he laughed and waved to Nick, almost catching his arm in the closing door. 

Oh shit. Halloween was  _ this  _ Friday! The holiday had completely slipped his mind. He had to find a costume fast, but to find a costume, he needed to find a costume idea first. There was no time for anything like that. Not with midterms and the newspaper. But Jay would insist that he participate, and really, Nick owed it to him to try. This would just have to be another thing to figure out later. Right now, he had to speed off to class. He took one more bite of poptart before zipping out the door, nearly forgetting his bag and key.  

Without the weight of the Jay Problem resting on his mind, it was much easier to focus on classes. He even finished the piece he was working on for the school newspaper that afternoon. It was an easy story: it was just talking about some of the fall themed specialties offered in the cafeteria. Part of the stories perks was that he got to try all the different desserts for free, then got to write about them. So far, it had been his favorite assignment. He stopped by said cafeteria to swipe one of the chocolate pumpkin bars. No doubt it would make a decent forgive-me-and-be-my-friend offering for Jay. He left it wrapped in a cheap napkin on the table with a little sticky note next to it with Jay’s name and a little smiley face on it. He couldn’t put off his costume hunt any longer. 

Nick flipped to a blank page in a rarely used notebook. It was easier to figure out his possibilities if he had them written down concretely in front of him. He bit the end of his pen lightly as he thought. He should probably stick with something true to himself, like someone from literature. “Oh,” he silently exclaimed to himself. He scribbled down the name Sherlock at the top of the page. Nick could pull off sherlock, couldn’t he? Of course he could. It was popular, it was sophisticated (if he did it right), it was...expensive. Nick didn’t have the money, well, no. He probably had the money. It was the time he didn’t have to put the whole thing together. So no sherlock. Maybe next year. Definitely next year. 

He thought for a bit longer. Another light bulb went off over his head. He was almost certain he still had that Harry Potter cloak with him. Wand too. This was easy! It was still true to his personality and he already had all the pieces! He scribbled down “Harry Potter”. But it was too easy. It was lazy almost. He had been a hogwarts students countless times before: that cloak was too well loved. There was definitely some concern if it still fit him, and if it did, would it even stay together? It wouldn’t surprise him, either, if about 50 other people went in some sort of Harry Potter get up. He would just have to think a little harder.  

Several more ideas came and went. There was always something wrong with each idea. Too complicated. Not complicated enough. Too cheesy. Not original. This wasn’t going anywhere: he severely needed a break. He set the notebook full of crossed out names aside. Reading for a little bit might help clear his mind. He still had to finish his october reading list anyways. Frankenstein was still waiting for him on his nightstand. Right when he walked into his room it hit him. What did Jay call him all the time?  _ Could it work?  _ Maybe people would get it, maybe they wouldn’t. But this costume wasn’t for people. This was for Nick...and for Jay. Mostly Jay. He would get it, calling him Dante all the time. It was perfect. The likelihood of anyone else dressing up as Dante was zilch. It was quirky, it seemed simple enough, and it would be personal joke between the two. Now he just had to figure how to pull this off. 

After a while of checking what he already had and what need to get, Nick had half a costume ready when Jay got home at 5. Nick stuffed his plans and papers under his pillow. This would work best if it was a secret. Yes, he would look ridiculous, but Jay would love it. He  _ had  _ to love it. 

“Old Sport?” Jay called out into the dorm. 

“Yeah?”

“Mail!”

Nick winced to himself. Ever since that first mail call, he had trouble being excited about mail. He met Jay in the common space, where he handed Nick just one envelope. His eyes widened. He knew what this was. Nick very nearly tore the letter in half in his rush to open it up. Daisy was a master at her theme parties. They weren’t the wild kind, with people going mental and a keg in the corner. They always had interesting people, and the most amazing decorations. This was the invitation for her Halloween party, one that Nick had never been able to go to. Now that they lived in the same area, it only made sense that his cousin would invite him. A Halloween party in that creep-ass-definitely-haunted-house was sure to be phenomenal. 

“Good news?” Jay asked. He had found Nick’s gift and was currently pulling off small bites of it. 

“The best news,” Nick beamed, and handed the invitation to Jay. He looked it over, chewing thoughtfully, before his own eyes widened. He nearly choked he swallowed so fast. 

“Is this an invitation for one of Daisy Carraway’s parties?” the words rushed out of his mouth, “Man, her parties are legendary, and so rare! How on earth did you get invited?” Jay was looking over the invitation again with a hungry vigor. 

“Uh,” Nick wasn’t expecting this. Well, he knew that Daisy’s parties were renowned. Again, not because they were off the hook, but because of the exclusivity. Jay raving about her made nick squirm a little. To him, she was just Daisy, and being a Carraway was just like being anybody else (even if that wasn’t true). It would almost be cocky to say “She’s my cousin”. To be a Carraway was to be arrogant, but it must have skipped a generation with him. But he didn’t need to explain anything. Jay gasped, and he jumped back from Nick a little. 

“Nick Carraway!” He announced dramatically as if there were cameras all about, filming this shocking soap opera twist, “How did I not miss the connection?”

“Yeah, Daisy’s my cousin,” Nick muttered. Ok, so not so cocky. While Nick wasn’t a celebrity by any means, the Carraway name held weight, something he and his siblings never had the chance to forget. If Jay was from a higher class family, which was probable if he was going to this institution, he absolutely would’ve heard of the Carraways: tycoons since America’s golden age. It wasn’t a lineage Nick was proud of. They probably wouldn’t be proud of him either. But he still had to pretend to be proud of his name. He would be stupid not to. After all, his name had gotten him almost everything her ever wanted his entire life. 

“Carraway,” Jay said again, more to himself this time, “I’ll be damned.” 

“If you want, you can come with me, unless you had any other plans in place for Halloween?” 

“No no! I’m definitely coming with you,” Jay finally gave the invitation back to Nick, “Shit, I need to get a better costume now.”

Nick laughed. So he wasn’t the only one struggling. Good. Now they just had to last until Halloween without Nick screwing things up again. 

Over the next few days, Jay tried his hardest to get Nick to tell him what his costume was. Each time was a different reason. “We can match.” “It’ll help me get ideas.” “What if we have the same costume?” “We can  _ match! _ ” None of them worked. Nick just laughed and shook his head. It was actually hard for Nick put his costume together in secret with Jay always hanging off of him. He was a physically affectionate type of friend. Jay’s hands were always on him in one way or another when they were hanging out; resting on his shoulder or arm most of the time. Occasionally he would lay his head on Nick’s shoulder as he read over his shoulder. But that was as far as it ever got. Jay still knew his boundaries. If Nick ever tensed when he touched him, he would back off immediately. This concept was new to Nick. People normally ignored his discomfort. Jay was the only one that ever noticed, and then fixed his actions no less. True, sometimes it would take longer for him to notice, but he always did in the end. In any case, physical touch was a big part of his persuasion process. “Please just tell me,” he would always start, hand squeezing Nick’s hand or arm ever so lightly. Nick loved it. Physical affection was not a part of his growing up but it seemed Jay was ready to make up all those years of neglect for him. 

It was a miracle that he actually got his costume done in time. Now, it wasn’t quite a full on Dante. Nick wasn’t in to wearing a red morph suit and a sad little hat with sad little flaps. It was more of a modern Dante if you will. It took him awhile to find red pants to go with his high tops and hoodie, but eventually he found the lucky pair in a bargain bin. The laurel crown was actually easy to get. Apparently it was a common thing for craft and home décor stores to sell them. Instead of a too tight cap that would perfectly show off the shape of his skull, he would just but his hood up and put the laurel over that. This was perhaps the easiest costume he had ever put together...also the most anonymous. 

What if it was too anonymous? What if Jay didn’t even recognize what he was trying to do? The one person he had actually dressed up for, and it would be worthless. No, Nick was sure. Jay wouldn’t even know that he was wearing a costume. He adjusted the laurel one last time. It wasn’t too late to take it off. He could look really fast for the Harry Potter cloak and no one would ever be the wiser. That was better than going as a color reversed christmas tree. He turned to leave the bathroom to go change quickly before Jay got home and it was time to go to Daisy’s. Too late. The doorway was blocked by Jay, the bits of his own costume cradled in his arms. His mouth was wide open in a smile, eyes glimmering as he fully took Nick in. 

“You’re Dante! But not sad, red nun Dante. More like a sexy Dante.” 

Nick’s cheeks matched the rest of his outfit. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Are you kidding me? This is awesome!” Jay reached out to reset Nick’s laurel, “I love it. The best Dante. Looks comfy too.”

Nick had to admit, Jay had a point there. “Now get going, I have a whole thing planned for my costume and it takes an expert. Lucky me, I am one.” Nick playfully pushed at Jay. 

“Sure, expert in flattery.”

Nick’s comment was meant with a wolf whistle. Nick pulled the hoodie strings tight, messing up his laurel again. Jay wasn’t kidding about his outfit. He was verging on thirty minutes in the bathroom. Occasionally, Nick could hear what sounded like the entire contents of an aerosol spray can being used. He looked nervously at his phone. They were going to be late. Which, according to Jay’s muffled answer, was fine. It wasn’t woke to be on time. Nick supposed he didn’t mind being late. It was the tension of Jay’s reveal that was really eating at him. He had given up and was slouching on the couch, updating his email when the bathroom door finally opened and  _ oh. My. God.  _

Jay was wearing half baby-blue, half white short-shorts, a bright pink shirt, fingerless yellow gloves, and what could only be clip earrings in each ear. (But now that he thought about it, maybe Jay’s ears were pierced and he just never noticed.) His hair was done in a full out 80’s coiffure. Nick’s mouth dropped open and he was pretty sure that gasp came from him. 

“You ready to go-go?” Jay asked, popping one leg out. Nick’s eyes immediately went to the flexed thigh before he got control of his gaze again. 

“Uh, ye-yeah,” he swallowed and stood up.  His legs were useless. Hell, all of him was useless. All he could do was stare at Jay’s legs and wonder how he never noticed just how athletically built Jay was. It didn’t help that Jay had opted to lead the way out the door. The shorts were very short, and pretty tight too. But Jay was committed to his appearance as George Michael, and poor Nick was going to be at the mercy of his costume for the rest of the night. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took to long to update. I've been dealing with a lot (both good and bad, but mainly good), and haven't really had time to write. But never fear, I fully plan on finishing this story and we still have a long way to go.   
> I got so many great ideas for costumes for the both of them. Honestly, I want to just write a one shot about so many of them. All of them were great contenders. Let's just say that pimp was in the running for Jay for a hot second. Shout out to all the people who contributed. Lots of love.   
> Hopefully if my short hiatus didn't lose anybody, I would still love to hear from you guys. This chapter was getting kind of long, so I decided to write the actual party as a separate chapter. Let me know what you guys think, or even just how y'all are doing. 
> 
> If you guys want to ask any question or just keep up with me in general, I'm on tumblr (all the time) under the same name. Don't be shy to ask me things on there too!


	8. Error 404 Costume Not Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet some new people and Nick is scared more easily than he thinks

“Cold?”

“No,” Jay scoffed, hugging his arms to his chest. The quickly approaching October evening was not booty short weather. Jay wasn’t much of a verbal complainer, but was still physically dramatic. He kept shaking his legs, hopping a little whenever they waited to cross the street, and stomping his feet. “Get the blood flowing,” he had said. Nick wasn’t entirely sure that’s how it worked. Nick offered to get an Uber, but Jay was determined to walk. Probably to show off his legs. Nick wouldn’t put it past him, and he couldn’t blame him either. If he had legs like Jay’s, he would never wear pants again.

Occasionally, Nick caught himself looking down at Jay’s legs. He was still in shock from his costume choice. That was the reason. He was staring at his legs simply for the fact that they were legs and they were there to look at. Not because they were surprisingly smooth, and he could easily see the muscle working just beneath the skin everytime they moved… There better be some easy distractions at the party. Lucky for him, there was.

Daisy had really outdone herself in decorations this year. Though, it probably wasn’t her that had actually put it all together, she was the architect of it all. They finally turned down Daisy’s street and- “Holy shit,” Jay whispered. Holy shit was right. Her house was easily spotted among the other, more plain decorations. The house had been restored to its former rundown glory. This wasn’t Daisy’s house. This place was abandoned, a place where teenagers would go to prank each other. This was the house that the kids on the street avoided because a ghost might drag them inside. An uncomfortably realistic cemetery was set up in the corner of the yard underneath the decrepit oak tree, a frayed noose gently swaying in its branches. The dark windows were boarded up from the outside. Paint peeled off the walls, and cobwebs covered the rotting porch. He didn’t know how she had pulled it off. It must’ve taken hours of work. Anyways, it was enough to make Nick want to turn around. The house’s current appearance only reinforced his conviction that it was haunted.

“These are probably the best decorations I’ve ever seen. Are you sure that this is the right place? It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s supposed to look like that.”

Nick took the first step down the street, taking charge. It was his cousin’s party after all. He should be leading the way. A low fog whipped around their feet as they crossed the yard and started to climb the creaking porch.

“Real fog?” Jay swirled his foot around in a thicker clump of the mist.

“Machine,” Nick guessed.

“Real creak?”

“Real creak.”

The paint of the door looked a hundred years older, a bunch of fake, broken locks added for effect. Jay shivered next to him, either from the decorations or from the cold. Probably both. Nick rang the doorbell. Even from outside, they could hear it echo through the house, somber and foreboding. Jay shivered again.

“You should’ve gone for the leather jacket look,” Nick suggested, playfully shoving at Jay. Jay’s humph filled the air between them, a child squealing in delight somewhere further down the street. Finally the door opened. A hired server greeted them and let them in. Jay hurried in as politely as he could, rubbing his legs down in the much warmer house. The inside of the house was an entirely different world from the outside, more so than it usually was. The main chandelier sparkled, sending glimmers of light all across the foyer. Black lace hung from the walls. Odd ceramic pieces of various potion bottles, skeleton bits, and nocturnal creatures inhabited vintage pieces of furniture. It was if a classic halloween special was ready to be filmed any second. A few groups of other guests littered all the way down the hall and up the stairs a little. An overjoyed squeak came from over by the stairs. A completely black and white silent film star disentangled herself from the group and rushed Nick.

“Nicky! I’m so glad you could make it!” Daisy practically flung herself around Nick’s neck, squeezing tightly. He patted her on the back and lifted her up a bit so she wouldn’t end up actually choking him.

“Can’t. Breathe,” he rasped playfully. One more squeeze and Daisy let go. She put a hand on either arm as she looked him up and down.

“Look at you!...You are just wearing the _hell_ out of that red!” From his side, Jay let out a bark of laughter when Daisy mentioned hell. He had probably thought it was a purposeful joke, but Nick knew that Daisy had absolutely no clue who he was supposed to be.

“I’m Dante,” he explained with a smile, “like Dante’s Inferno. It’s sort of a private joke between us,” Nick motioned to Jay with a shy smile. For the first time, Daisy looked in Jay’s direction. Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up. Even beneath her white face paint, Nick could tell her face turned a little red.

“Jitterbug,” Jay offered simply. Daisy turned her snort into a cough. Even after she recomposed herself, it took her a few seconds to speak up.

“I’m so happy you guys could come,” her voice clipped off in the end when she looked back at Jay. She bit her lip and coughed (laughed) again. “Well, there’s a table of appetizers in the library to hold everyone over until dinner is served. You don’t mind if I steal Nick from you for a second?” she smiled sweetly at Jay, linking her arm in Nick’s.

“Not at all. Just make sure he doesn’t have too much fun without me,” Jay winked and walked off in the direction that Daisy had pointed when she mentioned the library.

“He’ll be ok by himself?” Daisy asked Nick, watching closely after Jay’s retreating back.

“Yes,” Nick hummed. Of course Jay would be ok. He knew that Daisy didn’t really care about abandoning Jay at the party. She was more concerned if he would behave himself: if he was on their level. One really couldn’t doubt where Jay belonged. He radiated aristocratic elegance. It was all in the way he held himself, even when it was just he and Nick in their dorm. His head was always high, and when he didn’t really mean it, he had a business man’s smile. He belonged among the elite. Nick had never asked, but there was no question as to what type of family he came from. Some old money type probably, not too different from Nick’s own family. Besides, it took a special kind of man to boldly walk down the hallway in bright blue booty shorts and still gain the respect of everyone around him.

“He’s an interesting sort of person,” Daisy sighed, cocking one of her eyebrows at Nick, “Where did you find him?”

“I didn’t find him,” Nick rushed, “He’s my roommate, Jay.” Daisy hummed in mild interest.

“Well, anyways, come on! I’ve got someone I want you to meet!” Daisy tugged Nick up the stairs. The upper floor was just as dolled up, and even more people waited upstairs. Daisy escorted Nick around the rooms, poking her head in quickly before dipping the both of them out. She kept muttering to herself, shaking her head. A frown became more pronounced on her carefully lined lips the longer their search lasted. Finally, they stopped, but not by choice.

“Daisy!”

Daisy gripped Nicks arm, her nails digging through his hoodie sleeve. An immediate smile plastered onto her face. Her eyes were blank and her smile too stretched.

“Tom.”

A man built like a barrel was coming towards them, people jumping out of the giant’s way. He had on a plain white t-shirt and written in sharpie across his burly chest it said: “Error 404 Costume Not Found”. _He has enough hair on his arms to braid it._ He had a red, sweaty looking face even though there was no sweat. His voice was deep and gruff and he already had quite the mustache situated snuggly above his lip.

“There you are,” he announced when he reached the duo, “Got away from for a second there.” His eyes were dull and his face uninteresting. Nick had thought he had met people before that could be described as “more brawn than brain” before. But none of them compared to Tom.   

“Oh, well, I was just meeting my cousin at the door,” Daisy nodded at Nick. Tom gave him a quick once over, like he was trying to see his physical stats. Maybe he would need to square off against him in a fight. Nick squirmed. He knew his physical appearance wasn’t exactly awe inspiring. He could only guess what a guy like Tom thought of him. Daisy spoke up again.

“This is Tom. He’s a junior here and…”

“And your boyfriend,” Tom finished for her, pulling Daisy to his side. He nodded to Nick. A friendly gesture, Nick guessed. Then he launched into a conversation that he apparently had been having with Daisy before she had slipped away. A very one-sided conversation too. Daisy shrugged her shoulders at Nick, something Tom didn’t notice. He was too busy talking about sport something or other. She shooed Nick away and mouthed “I’ll catch up with you later”. Nick nodded and wormed his way back towards the stairs. If he couldn’t be with Daisy, he would just have to be with Jay. He was halfway there when something else caught his attention. There was a small commotion going on in one of the rooms that Daisy and he had passed earlier. It couldn’t hurt to check in, see what all the fuss was.

All the action was in the center of the room. Most of the furniture had been pushed aside, allowing for a large group of people to gather. In the middle of them all was an antique wash tub full of water and apples. Some had their heads dunked in, others were watching, cheering the players on. Nick wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, paying more attention to the bobbing antics than where he was going. He bumped into a girl, nearly knocking her over. She stumbled a bit, but eventually caught them both before they could land face first into the tub.

“I’m so sorry!” Nick panicked. The girl didn’t look interested in apologies.

“It’s fine. No harm, no foul,” she turned back to boredly watch people bob for apples. Nick stood awkwardly next to her. He felt like he should apologize to her again. She probably wouldn’t appreciate that. So he just stood quietly next to her as they watched people succeed and fail at catching the floating apples in their mouths.

“I’m Nick,” he announced randomly as a new group of people came in. The girl looked at him from out of the corner of her eye, longer this time.

“Jordan,” she hummed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip for a moment. Jordan was taller than him, but only by a bit. The heels might have had something to do with that. She had on a dark green tube dress with a big white M on the front, and thigh high white heeled boots. Her hair was jet black, and shaved on one side. Even though she was dressed up as an m&m (something that wasn’t really meant to be sexy but he wasn’t about to tell her that. It was working for her), she looked like she could easily destroy him. Granted, anyone could easily destroy him and then get him to apologize to them, but still. Nick thought of something else to say, very aware if he said one wrong word she might just kill him. Probably not. She was more likely to be way more chill than Nick was making her out to be. And why was he still here? He didn’t owe anything to her, and he still needed to find Jay. He was about to excuse himself when Daisy slipped into the room.

“Oh good! You two found each other!”

Jordan immediately relaxed, unfolding her arms and welcoming her friend over.

“Jordan, this my cousin I told you all about! This is Nick! And Nick, this is Jordan. She’s who I wanted you to meet. She’s my good friend, and an _amazing_ golfer!” She had her arm around Jordan in a side hug. She beamed as she showed off her friends to one another. Nick blushed and smiled at Jordan.

“Hi,” he muttered. He looked back and forth between her and Daisy. Daisy had tried to set him up before, and he wasn’t sure if this was another attempt or not. It didn’t seem like it. She wasn’t slowly inching them closer together, or making random connections between the two. In fact, she was talking very closely with Jordan, asking about her dress. Nick would’ve stayed but dresses weren’t his strong suit. There wasn’t much he could add to this conversation. They wouldn’t miss him if he bowed out. So he left with a nod that went unnoticed, the two were so engrossed with one another. He tried not to let the fact that Daisy wouldn’t notice he was gone get to him as he pushed his way to the stairs.

He almost bumped into someone else going down the stairs, but they caught him by the arm before they could collide.

“Jay!”

“I got you this funky skeleton tart thing,” Jay handed him the treat, “you know, in return for the pumpkin thing you got me.” For the first time since they got to Daisy’s house, Nick relaxed. Every bit of him had felt strained since he had been separated from Jay. He didn’t like social events to begin with. Daisy was too occupied to tend to Nick’s needs. Jay was the perfect replacement. The fact that he was willing to stick with Nick was a perk too.

“How’ve you been enjoying the party?”

“I nearly shoved someone into the bobbing-for-apples tub.”

“Proud!” Jay slipped his arm around Nick’s shoulder, walking haphazardly down the narrow staircase. They kept bumping into each other down the stairs. Despite his lack of clothes, Jay was warm against him every time their sides collided. Jay laughed with each bump while Nick’s heart thudded. It was too hot to be wearing a hoodie. Jay’s arm slid from Nick’s shoulders a few times to grab his hand and pull him through when it became too narrow to walk side by side. Surely holding his hand was disgusting. It was clammy with sweat. Compared with Jay’s own strong, sweat free hands, it must’ve been swampy hell to hold his hand. Still, everytime, Jay gently slid his hand down Nick’s arm until their hands met. Nick wasn’t a fool. He knew it was just a few seconds of friendly contact. That’s all it meant for Jay or for anybody else looking on. That’s all it meant for Nick too. His breath didn’t need to keep catching like this. Maybe it was just being in the crowded house. It wasn’t the busiest place he had ever been, but there was still a considerable amount of people. So, it must be the crowd.

It was a few hours and one gourmet, spooky themed meal later that Daisy was waving them out the door. Jay had been a hit at the party. It seemed that everybody already knew him. If they didn’t know him, they were itching to get acquainted. He got quite a few looks with his costume, only a few of them negative: mainly from other guys who couldn’t pull it off and had now lost some girl’s attention. Daisy had certainly taken a liking to him. She only let the two go after they had promised to visit soon. The door shut behind them, plunging them into the darkness of the night.

“Well, that was fun!” Jay sighed contentedly. Nick nodded in agreement before realizing Jay probably couldn’t see him.

“I feel like doing something else though. We still got a lot of Halloween left.” Nick smiled. Jay sounded like a little boy trying to convince his parent to stay up later.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Horror movie marathon?”

“George, you’re a genius.”

 

It was a sad time when Jay changed out of his costume. He emerged from his shower with considerably flatter hair and legs tucked away in monopoly pajama pants. Still, it was oddly exciting to know what his legs looked like underneath the monopoly man. The top hat man’s wink seemed to know exactly what Nick was thinking about.

“I still can’t believe that you haven’t seen the sixth sense,” Nick laughed as Jay slumped down next to him with the giant bag of candy they had picked up on the way home.

“I can’t believe you have. You’re so pure,” Jay ripped the bag open, pieces of candy flying everywhere.

“Sister’s alibi,” he pointed to himself, grabbing a blanket and setting the popcorn on the coffee table. Jay finished gathering the scattered pieces of candy and switched off the lights.

“Immersion,” he whispered in a would be spooky voice, “alright Nick. Hit me with your best shot!”

Jay was not a scary movie person. He didn’t get half way through the sixth sense without cowering, but he had asked for Nick’s best shot. By all means, Nick was going to give it to him. Nick put them through The Shining, The Ring, and It. Jay was a mess. He had been trying to put on a brave face, but that failed halfway through Jack Nicholson. He buried his face into Nick’s shoulder and muttered something about never watching Batman again. He hid under the blanket all during The Ring, legs tucked up against his chest and pressing into Nick’s ribs. Instead of watching the movie, he snuck the popcorn under the blanket and tried to distract Nick. He ran his fingers up and down Nick’s arm, trying to engage him in conversation. Nick indulged him sometimes, answering his questions, but they always fell silent after a few minutes. He wasn’t sure exactly when, but Nick first realized Jay was asleep during It. His body slumped, and his head was pushed awkwardly against the side of Nick’s chest. If he stayed in this position, he would seriously mess up his back.

So Nick grabbed one of the couch pillows and placed it on his lap. Barely breathing, he settled Jay’s head into his lap, helping him spread more comfortably out on the couch. Jay frowned in his sleep and gave a little snore. He shifted a lot, stretching against Nick. Not that Nick minded. Had he been just as wriggly that night he had asked Jay to stay? He blushed to think that he had snuggled up to Jay the same way that Jay was now. The movie became nothing more than background noise to the slow rise and fall of Jay’s chest, gentle puffs of his breath ghosting past Nick’s hand. His heart was in his throat, thudding so loudly it was going to choke him. His hands wandered into Jay’s hair, gently stroking it back from his forehead. Slowly, his frown turned into a smile, the wrinkles on his face smoothing. _No. Oh no._ The horror marathon turned out to be much scarier than Nick was prepared for. In fact, he was terrified.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be seeing a lot more of Jordan later on. And a little more of Tom Too (sorry). So that's the party! Not too eventful. At least, not really until the end. Nicky has got some thinking to do. Not sad thinking though like usual. You'll just have to wait and see.  
> The feedback on this fic has been astonishing! Really, you guys are amazing! I love getting your messages: it's one the best parts of my day! You guys really know how to bribe a writer into actually writing. I'm sorry if I couldn't fit everyone's ideas into this chapter. I'll try to get around to them. If not in a future chapter, than a different fic. But seriously, you guys are so sweet. Thank you so much for the continued support! Love to each and every one of you.


	9. Different from before

Nick might have slept in till noon had Jay not woken him up. He jerked back when someone shifted him, whacking his head on the wall behind the couch. He heard a weird sound, somewhere between a gasp and a snort. Through bleary eyes, he could just make out Jay’s silhouette. His eyes kept tearing up: he had forgotten to take his contacts out. Nick rubbed away the tears and the sleep and finally understood what Jay had been trying to do. One arm had scooped behind Nick’s back, the other arm poised on his chest to help lift him on his feet. He had been trying to move him to his bed. When he had begun to lift Nick up was when Nick spazzed. Jay was far too close to Nick for comfort, pressed into his side in preparation to lift Nick.  _But this is exactly where I want to-STOP._

  
“I’m sorry,” Jay whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Nick wasn’t listening. He was too occupied with watching Jay’s face. Every twitch in his lips as he spoke, slow blinks as he himself woke up. It was so close, barely three inches away. Why not study his roommate’s face details meticulously? It was completely normal behavior (even if it really wasn’t). Nick had always known Jay was attractive, but he had never known that he was _beautiful_. He wasn’t perfect by any account. There was a small, sliver of a scar peeking out of his hairline like a single spider’s thread. His eyes were rimmed red with sleep, or lack thereof, but they were still brilliantly green underneath thick yet trimmed eyebrows. His lips had a natural upturn at the corners, leaving him with a permanent, content expression. His hair was a mess from sleeping on Nick’s lap. True, it wasn’t near as crazy as Nick’s bedhead could get, but it was still wonderfully messy.

  
“Nick?”

  
“Hmm?”

  
“You zoned out again,” Jay half laughed, half yawned. “I’ll go get some coffee for us.” He ruffled Nick’s hair and pushed off from the couch with a groan. Nick was very aware of his absence, but he had nowhere near enough energy to follow Jay into the bedroom. He was glued to the couch. The couch was his home now and he was never leaving. Jay’s head on his lap for so long had succeeded in making at least one of his legs fall asleep: it was useless now. It was official. He was one with the couch and the couch was with him. Jay came back into the common room a few minutes later, sans bedhead and looking like he had been awake for at least a few hours. He was his usual chipper self. Nick looked down at his own gremlin body in shame.

  
“Alright, I’ll be back soon, Old Sport,” He stifled a yawn, “Think you can last a few minutes?” Nick flopped over onto his side in response. Jay snorted as he walked out the door. Nick knew that he should probably at least try to get up. If he didn’t get his contacts out, his eyes were good as murdered. But his body thought different. It was too early and he didn’t get enough sleep. It was a lazy day. If he could manage not to move for the next couple hours, it would be heaven. He drifted somewhere between awake and asleep. While his body remained motionless, his thoughts ran at a million miles an hour. All of them were about Jay.

  
He tried to recall the feeling from last night as Jay had snuggled into his lap. His whole body had gone numb but he had never felt more alive. All over felt weightless, inside and out, except for his lap. Nick closed his eyes, trying to remember the sweet struggle to control his breath unlike all those times before. This was the first time that Nick ever wanted to fight for breath again. Most times when he couldn’t breathe it was because something was wrong, but nothing was wrong with last night. Still, he had no idea what was going on. Logic and his heart told him what he was _really_ feeling. And yet the one time they agreed with each other, Nick didn’t listen to them. He had been sure of his feelings last night. He had heard friends all throughout their adolescence complain of sore hearts, the way they went on and on about the sensation of love.

But his friends were too young then to really know what they were talking about. Nick certainly didn’t love Jay. Sure, he was appreciative toward him. Affectionate even. But love? It had only been two months since they had meant and less than a week since they had begun to talk regularly. Had Nick still been in high school, he wouldn’t have doubted for a moment that this could be love. After all, this is what the movies said love is like. But Nick was in college now. He was old enough to know that Hollywood was hardly the source of all truth. Whatever he was feeling, it was strong. He just needed time to figure out exactly what it was. It shouldn’t took him too long to figure out. Nick laughed bitterly to himself. Yeah right. It was more likely to take him until the universe collapsed to get his feelings sorted.

  
Nick finally worked up the motivation to roll off the couch and start his day. God, Jay really had woken him up early. Nick had only fallen asleep around four am, which meant that seven am was the optimum time to wake up. Sleeping on the couch was a bad idea. Once again, he was sore all over from slouching through the entire night. Not as bad as that one time he had apparently turned into a contortionist in his sleep, but still. He rubbed at his back and shuffled over to his side of the bedroom.

  
He grabbed randomly at some clothes before grabbing his laptop and sitting on his cold bed. This was a good a time as any to catch up on work. He busted out an essay, not without pain. That was enough for the morning. The essay would just have to wait to be edited at a later time. Nick rubbed at his face. How long had Jay been gone now? At least an hour. Last time Nick checked, it didn’t take an hour to go down to the coffee kiosk on the corner. 10 minutes was the norm, 15 if there was a wait. Should go out and look for him? He probably should. Jay had probably just decided to take a walk in the crisp fall air, but Jay didn’t like fall. Why would he want to stay outside for a long time in cold weather? Nick nibbled at his nails, something he hadn’t done in a few days. Now felt like the perfect time to worry. He pulled on his red high tops from last night and hurried to the door. What the hell was keeping Jay? He opened the door in only a mildly panicked manner, and ran straight into Jay. But unlike last night, Jay didn’t catch him in time.

  
A grunt escaped from his chest as Nick ran into it full force. One arm shot out and wrapped around Nick in an attempt to steady himself. Still, the two stumbled backwards. Nick tripped over his feet and untied laces. With a thud with the same force as an earthquake, Nick fell backwards into the apartment. He hissed as he landed on his tail bone.

  
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Old Sport,” Jay chuckled, helping Nick up with his free hand. Nick rubbed his ass grumpily.

  
“Well maybe if you didn’t disappear,” he muttered. Jay handed him the coffee he had in his other hand. Nick took it gratefully. The outside was still warm. One of the best feeling in the world was wrapping your hands around a warm cup of coffee, at least in Nick’s opinion. The warmth reached a place beyond the skin: it reached into your soul. After a quick sip, Nick felt more ready to smile, even with his bruised ass.

  
“Sorry, I ran into someone and we just got to talking!”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Yeah. One of my clients. They just took a long time to thank me.”

  
It seemed harmless enough, but there was something about the generalness of Jay’s excuse that seemed off to him. Even if he had bumped into a “client”, Nick didn’t know what to think of the fact that Jay had “clients”. He vaguely remembered Jay mentioning that he had his own little business closer to the beginning of the year. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t so weird. In any case, Jay had brought him coffee. That meant he was one of the good ones, but Nick already knew that.

  
“So what did you get up to while I was gone besides putting on the most hideous outfit I’ve ever seen in my life?” Nick looked down at his lumpy sweater and acid jeans. He didn’t see anything wrong with what he was wearing.

  
“What’s wrong with cozy sweaters?” Jay wrinkled his nose as he looked at the sweater and baggy jeans.

  
“Absolutely nothing,” he winced, “But I swear your sweater looks exactly like my aunt’s fat, old cat.” Nick didn’t have to pretend to be offended. He was. _This is my favorite sweater!_ Now he just had to wear it for the rest of the season, just to spite that comment.

 

 

An easy energy came to exist between the two of them. Nick felt himself loosen up around Jay, his nervous tendencies melted away in his light. His nails were no longer chewed down to the nubs: he no longer felt the need to nibble at them anymore. Even with finals just around the corner, Nick was surprisingly relaxed. Finals were always beyond stressful for him. Normally, his panic set in earlier in the semester. So far there was no sign of it. Something had held it off. Yes, he found himself overwhelmed with the amount of classwork and writing for the newspaper, but he was nowhere near breaking, or shutting down. For the first time, the cogs in his head were well oiled and turning smoothly. He had to attribute this fix to Jay.

  
Jay was hardly ever panicked about anything. Clearly it was wearing off on Nick. Jay took everything in stride: he never put too much stress upon anything. For him, life and work was flexible, the details were unimportant. Nothing bothered him because, it seemed to Nick, he didn’t care about anything strongly enough for it to bother him. This thought was the only source of darkness in his mind when it came to Jay. Nick was very aware of how he felt for Jay. At least, he knew he cared about him. Could be possible that if Jay cared for nothing, that Nick was among that nothing? It couldn’t be true. It wouldn’t make sense if it was true. Everyone had to care about at least something, someone. And Jay seemed to be more balanced than the average person. It was in the way he was always smiling, greeting everyone by name: he cared. But Nick couldn’t help but notice that even though Jay never lacked enthusiasm, there was something wanting in the connection each time they came across someone in the street.

  
Everyone knew Jay. People would breeze past Nick if he and Jay were out together and go right up to Jay. The conversations were always fast. Jay always knew about the people who came up to him. He asked about friends, how their studies were going, random details he remembered from previous conversations. On the other hand, no one ever knew anything about Jay. They never asked about him, and Jay was careful to keep the conversation away from himself. Nick never brought up his observations. It felt a little silly to him, that he was paying such close attention to Jay that he could recall these instances so easily. Besides, he wasn’t sure what conclusions he could draw about Jay himself with this information. He told himself it wasn’t important. Nick would store his rambling thoughts elsewhere and instead bask in Jay’s smile, always directed at him.

  
Though Jay seemed inpersonal with his “clients” as he would brush aside, Nick still knew that he cared about something: he was _certain_. He could see it in his eyes. It was just a glimmer, a heartbeat. In that microsecond, Jay’s eyes would focus on something beyond himself, beyond Nick. His usual, automatic charisma would slip, but only within those eyes. The light would flicker and his eyes became dark and heavy, overtaken by a strange sadness that Nick could never decipher. No matter how hard he tried or how long he thought about it. Yet, it was always so quick that he couldn’t be sure if it was his imagination each time. Because within one blink, Jay’s eyes would be pure fire again, filled with all the optimism of the world. But if it was true, if Jay was sad too or had the capacity to be sad, then Nick could fancy himself to be less lonely than he actually was. If it were possible for the someone like Jay Gatsby to be sad, the literal definition of hope, then maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with Nick being sad from time to time. When Nick was with Jay, he felt normal. He felt right. He had never felt right before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is just supposed to be short and sweet. It’s another internal chapter, with a lot of thinking but it’s happier thinking this time! He’s still a dumb ass, but we love him. He’ll get there you guys. Like, next chapter
> 
> What are some of the other fandoms you guys are in? I’m just in a lot of small/dead ones.


	10. Too close for comfort

__“What are your plans for break,” Jay said through a mouthful of chowmein. Midterms had almost slaughtered them both. But now classes were slow again, the days were darkening, and the wind nipped at your bones as soon as you stepped outside. Jay was very vocal about how much he missed the friendly days of summer. Nick never really made any remark through words, but it was obvious through his myriad of sweaters exactly what his feeling about the weather was. Already, Jay couldn’t stand anything to do with pumpkin anymore while Nick couldn’t get enough. So Jay had announced that he was in charge of dinner tonight and ordered boxes upon boxes of Chinese: Chinese takeout “didn’t have a season”, it was “timeless”.

  
Nick’s demeanor darkened a little at the mention of thanksgiving break. “Going home I guess,” he muttered, pushing at his rice. Nick balked at the idea of having to go back to Chicago, of seeing his father again. All his life, he had learned to just accept his father’s criticisms. There was no other frame of reference he had to how he should be treated or how a family should be. In his house, the father’s word was law, the mother bought affection for her through gifts, and the siblings fought for their own survival. There was no such thing as familial love. His family was a firm, and each person had to do their job or they were fired. It was simply how Nick knew life until graduation.

  
Even a few months of collegiate air clearing his mind was enough to show him just how ludicrous his home life had been. There were other options than the family business, other better opinions than his father’s, other paths in life besides disappointment. Nick had become accustomed to a non toxic environment with Jay. If he went home, he was terrified that his father might be able to reshackle his soul with ease.

  
“When do you leave?”

  
Nick shrugged. _Hopefully never,_ he wanted to spit, but that was a venom that Jay did nothing to deserve. He slumped in his chair and rested his chin on his arms. Thinking about his father always pulled him into one of these moods, even if the thought had lasted barely a second. Nick knew he wasn’t free of his father yet. He could never be until he could think of him in passing without his heart trembling at the thought of the mighty man. Nick pushed his dinner aside. Hunger had passed over him. Jay slowed his own eating, noticing Nick’s rapid mood change.

  
“What’s wrong,” he more demanded than asked, “Do you want me to kick someone’s ass?” Nick smiled to himself and shook his head. Although he did enjoy the mental image of Jay taking on his dad, it wasn’t exactly plausible.

  
“Nah. Ass kicking doesn’t fix this problem.”

  
The wheels turned in Jay’s head. He opened his mouth several times, no doubt wanting to pursue the conversation. Eventually, he pulled his noodles back over to him, but he didn’t continue eating. He stared at the noodles like they were an overly complex puzzle instead of food.

  
“Well, will you still be here a few days before Thanksgiving?”

   
Nick nodded hesitantly. Jay’s plans weren’t necessarily bad, but they weren’t exactly good either. Good intentions...bad effect.

  
“Well, I’m going to be volunteering at a soup kitchen. Some social justice, political science majors cornered me on the way home a couple days ago with a flier. Is that something you’d be into?”

  
Soup kitchen? Now that didn’t sound like a disaster waiting to happen. Especially if it hadn’t been organized by Jay. And what better way to get into the Thanksgiving spirit? Nick nodded enthusiastically.

  
“Sure! I honestly can’t imagine a better way to spend my time.” Jay beamed at him, and his heart skipped a beat. Nick ignored it. After all, what’s a single missing beat in the grand scheme of things? What’s one bright smile among millions?

  
“Oh it’s gonna be great! We can wear hairnets and shit! We’ll be irresistible,” Jay laughed. He picked his noodles back up, a faint smile still on his lips. One hand absentmindedly wandered up to his hair as he pushed it back off his forehead, no doubt imagining that hairnet. Nick continued to neglect his rice. _When did Jay’s hair get longer? I guess it has been a while since either of us has gotten a haircut._ Nick’s own hair was a catastrophe. It had begun to crawl down his neck and over his ears, a perpetual ball of fluff. He could only imagine what his parents would have to say about it when he showed up in a few weeks.

  
As Thanksgiving drew nearer, Jay’s autumn spirit seemed to resurface. He didn’t mind the paper turkey Nick had put up so much anymore. In fact, he thought it was hilarious and teased him mercilessly about the kindergarten tier work. Nick got his revenge by ceaselessly referencing Jay’s failed attempt at a paper leaf chain.

  
Nick put off thinking about his approaching trip. He hadn’t even packed yet, and the days were coming and going quickly. Even the professors seemed anxious for the short break. Classes were relatively devoid of work because no one had the energy to try. The only thing that kept him busy enough to keep his thoughts occupied was the school newspaper. They had a special issue to get out, after all. Nick was lucky enough to convince the editor to let him write a piece about the soup kitchen, maybe entice some more volunteers into coming. The piece practically wrote itself. It had been a while since he had written anything with such clarity. Normally he hated his articles for the paper: they were convoluted and dull. It was rare for him to be excited about one of his pieces being published. But this one, he could hardly wait. Sure, he knew it wasn’t front page news or anything. There was absolutely no reason why he should be so pumped up for this story to come out. And yet, when the edition was published he snatched a copy of the newspaper and ran all the way back to his apartment.

  
“Jay!” He burst through the door, newspaper half crumpled in his fist. Despite the chill November air outside, Nick’s face was red and hot, not unlike Daisy’s boyfriend (What was his name again?) Running in a sweater, regardless of the weather, was never a good idea. He wiped at the pinpricks of sweat at his hairline, and breathlessly called out Jay’s name again. The man in question popped his head out of their bedroom, concern etching its way across his forehead. The lines only became more prominent when he saw that Nick had his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Jay rushed over to Nick, placing his hands on his shoulders.

  
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He very nearly shouted. Nick looked up, smile spreading easily across his chapped lips. He waved the paper in front of Jay.

  
“Surprise,” he sucked in breath, “for you. Excited...so I...all the way...running,” Nick gestured lamely around him to get his point across. Jay rolled his eyes, though he began to smile as well.

  
“God, you’re a human disaster,” he laughed and took the paper from Nick.

  
“Eh,” he sighed before gulping down the lump in his throat. Cold air was not good on a hard working throat. “Page...third page,” he tapped the edition lightly. Jay opened it as he walked to the couch, Nick following close behind. He twisted his body to try and see over Jay’s shoulder. He wanted to watch his face as he read. After all, Jay was the one who had given him his subject material. Without really knowing what it was, he craved Jay’s approval, his praise. This article was for Jay. Maybe that was why he was so excited for it to come out. He had the strangest urge to make Jay proud, to prove himself to him. Even though he knew how he really felt, and to the enormous extent he coveted Jay’s attention, he pushed it all aside. He was just proud of this piece and wanted to share it with his close friend.

  
Jay hummed to himself as he read. Nick tried to guess the parts he smiled at, or what sentences elicited his sober nods. He folded it carefully across his lap when he finished. Nick had expectantly been hanging onto his shoulder the entire time, looking back and forth between the page and Jay’s face. Now, Jay looked him square in the face. Nick’s own cheeks warmed. Their faces were incredibly close. Yes, Nick had put them in that position. Surprising as it was usually Jay who drew closer. Nick leaned back a bit to take in Jay’s full expression. It was flat except for the eyes, which gleamed through Jay’s thick lashes. Nick gulped a little.

  
“You wrote this?”

  
“Yeah. Is it bad? Shit, I knew it was going to be bad. I’ll call the editor and-”

  
Nick was abruptly cut off. Large arms had encircled his shoulders, crushing him into his chest. Jay was laughing in his ear, patting him on his back.

  
“This is amazing! I can’t believe you wrote about our soup kitchen!” Jay was letting go now and picking the article back up. “They’re going to get so much traffic now! Do you know how much this helps them?”

  
Nick shrugged, the twinge of fear in his chest melting away. Jay liked it! Liked it enough to crush him too. Nick rubbed his arm shyly, memorizing the weight of Jay’s arms holding him tight.

  
“Seriously, Nick, this is great,” Jay clapped a hand on his shoulder. It struck Nick like a slap across his face, but more in his mind. Jay never called him by his name. So, he really meant it. Nick has known that it was a decent piece of work, but he never thought it would elicit such a response.

  
“Thank you,” Nick muttered. He turned his face away, knowing he was blushing furiously.

  
“And it’s just in time too. Soup kitchen is tomorrow. Well, the slot I signed us up for. You aren’t gone by then?”

  
“No, I leave early Wednesday morning.”

  
“Perfect!” Jay hopped up off the couch, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go finish studying. And I’m taking this with me.” Jay winked and tucked the paper under his arm. There it was. That damn wink.

 

Apparently the slot that Jay had signed them up for was an all day deal. And the day started at 6, a fact that Jay had withheld. Jay struggled to get the more than grumpy Nick out of the apartment in time. He very begrudgingly got dressed, a process which took twice as long with his bleary vision.

  
“It’s not that bad,” Jay offered, locking the door behind them.

  
“It wouldn’t be bad if I had known ahead of time,” Nick grumbled. Even in the hallway, his coat failed to keep him warm. “It’s way too early and way to cold,” he nuzzled down into his doctor who scarf. Jay hugged him close to his side and rubbed his arm quickly. “We’ll be warm in a second,” his laugh turned into a shivering stutter. Nick burrowed further down into his scarf. Suddenly his face was much hotter.

  
Jay was the functional one in the mornings. He got the coffee, called the Uber, and kept them up and going. Nick was more akin to a zombie, even after coffee.

  
“I promise, it’ll be worth it,” Jay tried to grab one of Nick’s cold hands as they sat in the cramped back seat. He moved it out of the way quickly, opting to wrap it around his cup instead. Sure, he had held Jay’s hand before, but what would their driver think? Besides, it felt different today.

  
“I know it will. It just...takes me a while. You of all people know this,” he sighed and leaned back. Maybe he could get a few minutes of rest on the way there. But his body was too overly aware of Jay’s presence, how close they were to touching. All either of them had to do was adjust a bit… Jay shifted around a bit and tapped Nick lightly on his knee. _Oh please no_. Nick kept his eyes closed and his head back, his neck already starting to ache. Again, Jay’s fingers drummed on his knee.

  
“What?”

  
“You can lay on my shoulder. I imagine it’ll be a little more comfy.”

  
Half of him tried to fight to agree with Jay: _he has a point. Your neck will be a mess all day if you sleep like this, and you really can’t afford that today. Besides! Just look at that shoulder. Firm, warm, Jay’s…_ The other half screamed the other voice down, or at least tried to: _no! You have to keep it together! We all know where this will lead and you do not want to put yourself in that position!_

  
Jay wiggled his shoulder and his eyebrows when Nick didn’t answer after a few seconds. Nick scoffed, but gave in. He half cheered, half died when he was finally settled. There was no way he was going to get any rest now, but Jay seemed rather pleased with himself. He relaxed his shoulder into an easier position for Nick and took his coffee.

  
“There. Maybe I can help make up a few minutes sleep for you in lieu of an apology.” Not a chance. Nick’s heart thumped in his throat. He was surprised that Jay couldn’t feel it beating against his shoulder. His coat and scarf were too much now. No doubt he would sweat through all his layers. He tried his hardest to keep his breathing slow and soft. Better to let Jay think he was asleep than having an actual mental break down at simply touching his shoulder. _I need help._

  
The organization was thrilled when they arrived. Volunteers were always welcome, the manager assured them. They explained what other type of events they held, what their goals were, etcetera, as they handed Nick and Jay their aprons and (Jay gasped) hair nets. Nick and Jay were to work in the kitchen, help carry out plates, wash dishes, reheat food, usual kitchen stuff. Others would join them throughout the day, especially at dinner time, but for the time being, they would have to make due on their own. There was a lot to do, but it was quick, mindless work. The kind of work which made plenty of room for conversation.

  
Nick avoided talking about anything serious, or anything too personal. He and Jay had become rather close recently...too close almost. It had only been a month since they had really gotten to know each other. Already it felt like he had known Jay all his life. Nick didn’t know what would happen if they got any closer. Well, that was a lie. He had some idea of what _could_ happen. Sometimes he even convinced himself it was a possibility. He would imagine that Jay’s long glances meant something else, that perhaps he too got butterflies every time they touched. But this was purely imagination, and it had to stay that way. So, Nick kept conversation topics focused on fluff, things that Jay already knew. Well, he tried to in any case. However, once Jay had made up his mind about something, he could not be deterred.

  
“So, you’ve never really told me about your family?” Jay prompted, working on opening some cans of pre-made cranberry sauce. “I mean, I’ve heard a little about the sister, but not much else.”

  
“There’s not much to tell,” Nick muttered, disliking the subject immediately, “There’s a dad, a mom, an older sister and a younger brother.”

  
“Well, tell me about them.”

  
Nick sighed. Jay wasn’t going to give this up. He knew that much. Might as well resign himself. After all, where was the real harm in giving Jay a few satisfactory details?

  
“Let’s see. My dad is CEO of a big hardware company. It’s the family tradition to pass it down. I guess I’m next in line,” Nick sighed, starting to mix massive amounts of mashed potatoes, “My mom is your typical trophy wife, I guess you could say. My sister was the rebel. And my brother is still in high school, sophomore year. He’s more a sports guy, which makes my dad happy.”

  
Jay grunted at that, rather forcefully too. “And where do you fit in?”

  
“Middle child.”

  
Jay didn’t respond, but Nick saw him nod his head out of the corner of his eye.

  
“Do you like them?”

  
“I like Ruth, my sister. But she probably won’t be there. Her and my parents aren’t on the best of terms.” Jay was quiet again. Nick tried not to feel exposed, but it really couldn’t be avoided. Too late. It was what it was. At least, now maybe some of the heat could go off him since he answered Jay’s question.

  
“What about you? I’ve never heard you mention your family.”

  
Jay crossed the kitchen over to him to help with the potatoes. It was tough to stir them, and Nick wasn’t exactly He-Man: he couldn’t keep it up for long. Jay took over without being asked.

  
“Oh it’s family,” Jay shrugged. “Traveled a lot with my dad while I was growing up so we’re pretty tight. But you don’t want to hear about all that,” Jay dismissed with a wave of his hand. Nick most certainly did want to hear all about it! He had done his fair share of traveling, and loved every second of it. He perked up at the opportunity to swap stories about places they had been with Jay, but Jay interrupted with another question, changing the subject before Nick could speak.

  
“You got anyone waiting for you back home?”

  
“What?”

 

“You know, like, someone special,” Jay winked on the word special and whispered comically. Nick’s face caught on fire. Oh no, he didn’t like this subject anymore than the last. In fact, he would rather talk about his family for hours rather than this. _Especially_ with Jay.

“Oh, uh, no. No I don’t. Never had anyone special,” he grit his teeth and took back over the potatoes.

  
“Really?” Jay laughed, “I find that hard to believe.”

  
“I think we should start plating these,” Nick said firmly. The mashed potatoes looked ready. He stared at the white lumps without really looking at them. Memories of junior year started to cloud his mind, replacing the order of which they had to serve the food.

  
“Nick?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Nick jumped when Jay gently slid his hand onto his shoulder. Even though the touch was affectionate, it was too much for him at the moment. He casually shimmied out of Jay’s grasp to grab the plates.

  
“It’s fine. You didn’t.” And the conversation was dropped.

  
The rest of the night went fine. Surprisingly, they were able to get food out on time for the people who needed it. During break, they were allowed to go out to the dining hall and sit with the people. And the stories they heard… One man had lived on the city streets since fourteen. He came every year on thanksgiving. According to him, it was the best day of the year. Nick blushed when he thought of everything he had grown up with, all that he had and all that he still had. Suddenly, a few silly inconveniences like waking up too early that morning embarrassed him. Who was he to complain? Jay, apparently, had become very good at reading the signs of when Nick began to over think. After all, he had to put up with it all the time. He politely excused themselves and dragged Nick back to the kitchen.

  
“Sorry,” Nick muttered, going to run his hands through his hair before remembering the hair net. God, he wanted to tear it off.

  
“Don’t apologize. You can’t help where or how you were born. You should only apologize if you sat on your wealth and did nothing about it. But look at you, you’re doing something.”

  
“Not a lot.”

  
“It’s more than most people do.”

  
Jay had his hands on either side of Nick, rubbing small circles into his shoulders. For this moment, he let Jay comfort him, even if he couldn’t meet his eyes.

  
After a lot of begging and bribing, Jay got Nick to take a selfie with him in all their garb, right down to the yellow rubber gloves peace signs. It was a very soapy selfie. Clean up didn’t take too long. Of course, half of that was because the staff sent them home early (“you’ve been here the entire day! Just go!”). It was finally on the ride home that exhaustion hit Nick again. He couldn’t help it: cars made him sleepy. This time, he didn’t hesitate to crash against Jay’s shoulder. He was way past caring at this point. Though he did insist that Jay properly wake him up when they arrived. He could take the stairs by himself, thank you very much. There would be no need for carrying tonight.

  
“When do you leave?”

  
“Early,” Nick yawned as they stumbled into their dark apartment.

  
“Promise to wake me before you go?”  
Nick laughed and patted Jay’s sturdy shoulder.

“You mean before I go go?” Jay laughed and playfully pushed at Nick before bringing him tight to himself for a hug.

“Yes. I want to say bye before you go go.” Nick wouldn’t keep his promise.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse why this took so long except that I’m lazy. I do not plan to be lazy in the future. 
> 
> Question of the day: do any of you guys celebrate thanksgiving?


	11. Home for the Hellodays

_Nick couldn’t help but arch his back at the firm hands on his hips. Nothing to say of Jay’s tongue bringing him closer to the edge of his senses. He mewled pathetically, Jay’s name rolling off his tongue like a prayer. He couldn’t look down, he would be lost if he looked down. Jay’s mouth encompassed him, hot and oh so delightfully wet. Everything else blurred except for the places where Jay touched him: fingers bruising his hips, his messy hair tickling the inside of his exposed thigh. Nick tried to buck upwards, but Jay held him in place._

  
_“Please...Jay,” he breathed, his own hands wandering down to run through the golden hair. Jay hummed, causing the most interesting sensation. Nick threw his head back, indulging in this forbidden pleasure. He fought against Jay to raise his hips, digging his heels into Jay’s back. He called his name out like a mantra, all the more desperately with each repetition. Jay ceded to Nick’s pleas and went faster. His bobbing head matched the rise and fall of Nick’s chest. Nick felt himself slipping, the pressure in his lower belly building up to a point that would surely drive him insane. His vision spotted the longer and more earnestly that Jay worshipped him. He felt it as one feels a coiled spring is about to burst forward. He cried out for Jay once more and_

  
Nick shot up in bed, horrified at his own subconscious. Unsurprisingly, he could feel where the front of his bottoms had grown damp. He groaned into his hands, trying to muffle the sound of mortification. He peeked over at Jay’s bed in the darkness. There was no movement under the lump of blankets. He prayed that Jay was actually asleep and not just pretending. If Nick had actually voiced what he had been saying in the dream...if Jay had heard it perchance… Well, one was never to young to die.

  
He tried his hardest not to replay the dream as he quickly changed and dressed himself. His best was not good enough. He blushed at how real it had felt. Not only how real, but how good. No. He couldn’t let himself think that way. As far as he was concerned, the dream was a complete and utter surprise. It could only have come from the darkest recesses of his mind. It wasn’t as if he actually wanted that to really happen (even if he did) or as if he was actually attracted to Jay (even if he was). None of it mattered, yes or no, want or don’t want. It could never happen. They were _roommates_. Jay would probably be disgusted if he even had an inkling of what had just happened. It was _weird_. It was t normal. Nick shook his head to clear his head of all these tumultuous thoughts. It didn’t work. The fear and shock were still there, as well as the fading memory of the dream.

  
It was barely 3 am. Nick wouldn’t have to leave for another hour and a half. That didn’t stop him from carefully rolling his suitcase out of the room. He couldn’t stay here, cooped up for an hour and a half with only his thoughts to occupy him. He didn’t want to wake Jay either, despite his promise. It was all too fresh and he was too freaked out. He glanced one more time at Jay’s bed. He rolled over in his sleep, the soft snores stopping once he rolled over. The bed looked warm, inviting despite the limbs tangled in all the sheets. He never knew Jay was a restless sleeper. The thought teased that maybe he should wake Jay up, just to say goodbye. He didn’t want him to wake up disappointed the next morning. But then the sensation of Jay’s mouth came back to him and he bolted out of the room. This wasn’t a safe place to stay right now.

  
Nick arrived at the airport at around 3:30. His flight wasn’t until six. Even after he was all checked in, bags ready to go, and sitting rather alone in the boarding area, he didn’t risk sleep. After tonight, he was to nervous of what else his mind might think up if he wasn’t awake and in control. What if it all happened again? So he forced himself awake. His eyes began to water, sure, and he tapped his leg wildly due to too much coffee too early. He was dying to sleep, but he wouldn’t let himself. He couldn’t let himself. Out of respect to Jay. If his mind wandered again, wouldn’t it be like violating Jay in some way? Even though he hadn’t done so in about a month, Nick chewed on his nails.

  
He was well aware that he was headed down the dangerous path of overthinking. On top of that, he was about to be back in his father’s home. But only two people could ever pull him off this track. Daisy, who had been too preoccupied the last month and probably didn’t want to be bothered again with Nick’s problems. Besides, she wasn’t here right now. And Jay...well, Jay was part of the problem. Funny thing, he usually was. In any case, he had to fight this fight on his own. He better prevail soon; he needed to be strong when he walked into the Carraway place. If he failed, these few days were going to be _much harder_ than they needed to be.

  
The flight was horrendous. Nick didn’t like flying in the first place. But then when you add on things like exhaustion to the point of hysteria, a bad bout of anxiety, and considered his final destination, well, that was a formula for a very fragile Nick. He stepped off the plane, nerves shot. It wouldn’t surprise him if some of the other passengers thought he was insane, with his unkempt hair and bloody eyes. He was also prone to jumping. It was a very convincing portrayal of the stir-crazy-man-about-to-kill-his-family-in-a-haunted-hotel look.

  
First things first. Nick found his way to the nearest bathroom to possibly wash some of the sleep from his eyes, maybe get his hair under control. He deemed himself presentable when he looked considerably less like Jack Nicholson. Now, to find his bags. It was an easy enough task but, surprise surprise, always made Nick nervous. Some people have irrational fears like a shark in the swimming pool, or a face in a dark window. Nick’s irrational fear was that his luggage would be lost or misplaced. Like always, his bag was waiting for him on the ramp. And like always, Nick let out a deep sigh of relief once he had his possessions again. Last thing to worry about: how to get home.

  
Nick hadn’t expected his parents to come greet him, nor had he expected them to send any sort of transportation. He was right on both accounts, of course. It was pretty easy to get an Uber; drivers were always waiting around at airports. Still, it didn’t make Nick any less nervous to be in the car with a stranger. His mind, as usual, jumped to the worst case scenario. In this particular happenstance, he worried about the possibility of the driver being a murderer. Admittedly, the fear dissipated once he saw his driver was a sweet Indian grandma. She didn’t look the axe wielding type.

  
On the drive over, Nick recognized every street, every corner. Even more so when they reached the richer neighborhoods. He glared apprehensively at his old school, St. Niles Prep. He looked away quickly. His time at the prison esque building hadn’t exactly been the time of his life. Halfway between his parent’s house and old school was a massive, gothic style church, complete with grey stone and menacing steeples. If school had been bad, the church where he used to attend was his personal hell. His heart clenched as they passed and he wondered if Pastor Murphy was still there. Probably. He shuddered at the thought. In a short time they were pulling up to the curb.

  
The sidewalk portion in front of the Carraway household was kept meticulously neat. Unnaturally neat. Not a single leaf littered the walk way for the white stone steps leading up to the dark oak door. A black steel fence lined the property, adding to the cold monochromatic feeling of home. He left the car quickly enough but stood standing on the curb with his luggage a few minutes after. November wind in Chicago was enough to turn someone numb after a few seconds, but Nick stayed outside. Heaven knew it was warmer outside than it was going to be inside. Nothing had changed. Of course nothing had changed. He had only been at college for a few months. Still, it was incredibly...jarring how normal it seemed.

  
The windows of the house were still high and cold, looking to be made of obsidian rather than glass. Everything had been kept in its perfect place. It still looked a bit like a museum to him. Either that or a mausoleum. The dull grey sky didn’t help to lighten the mood. He found himself transported back to the early years of his life. Nick resisted to run. The world had not changed after he had left. What a comforting thought.

  
He finally worked up the strength (mental or physical, he wasn’t sure) to heave his bag up the ridiculous amount of steps. He rang the bell, and didn’t have to hear it to know that it’s deep tones would echo throughout the house. If you could call it a house. Not quite a mansion, it was still uncomfortably large, especially for a shrinking family. No one came for several minutes. Nick stamped his feet, maybe to get some blood back to his toes. He rang the doorbell again as a wave of wind nearly knocked him sideways into the bannister. Finally the door opened. A maid moved aside to let him in. Despite the freezing wind, Nick still entered the house hesitantly. Once he stepped foot inside, there would be no going back. But who was he kidding? There was no going back the moment he left his apartment at 3 this morning.

  
The maid tried to take his suitcase, but Nick cling to it.

  
“Don’t worry, I can get it,” he stuttered, still recovering from the cold. He tried for what he hoped was an assuring smile. Either way, the maid nodded nonchalantly and left. It was a different one from what he had grown up with. Then again, he had never grown up with just one maid, his mother was so contrary about keeping them. It was ridiculous to have a maid any ways, in his opinion. An opinion he would be wise never to voice. To suggest anything other than high living was blasphemy according to his family. He waited in the foyer a little longer, still trying to rub life back in his arms. No doubt the maid had gone to inform his parents and brother of his arrival. He debated whether or not to wait for them. In the end, he opted to hurry up the stairs, make himself a little more up to par with his family’s standards.

  
He winced as he made his getaway. He had forgotten just how much the stairs creaked. How his sister ever managed to sneak out at night, he would never know. Unlike Daisy’s house, which she had chosen to remodel in its original turn of the century style, narrow hallways and all, the Carraway house had been opened up. The upper floor was a ring. There was no middle. People could peer over the ornate bannister to see the large living room down below. All around the outside of the ring was where the rooms could be found. Nick hurried into his room before he could be called away.

  
Just like the rest of the house, his room was exactly how he remembered it. Most likely only one person had been in here since he left. That would be the maid, to dust. His parents weren’t the type of people to wallow or reminisce. The room did feel a little different though. He had never been one for posters or anything like that, but all of his books and trinkets were missing from the numerous shelves, being at college. He wished he were with them instead of here. And though he wasn’t too enthused about it after last night, he couldn’t deny that he’d rather be with Jay as well. But here he was and there everything else was. He had to focus on the now, instead of moping. After all, he had some pruning to do before going down to meet his family.

  
A little hair gel and a one fresh shirt later, Nick was walking back down the stairs. He still chose the comfort of a sweater, but it was one of those snazzy, J Crew type ones and not the overly fluffy eye-sores he prefered. His mother couldn’t give him hell over this: she had picked it out for him. He tried not to feel too confident, just in case his parents did find a way to tear him down which was more than likely, but he felt rather dapper as he checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. True, he wasn’t close to the athletic glory of his brother. He was still his scrawny self. But in an elevated way. At least, he looked more sure of himself than he felt.  
His family was seated around the elaborate brick fireplace when he walked into the living room. It was shocking how even they had neglected to change during the last few months. They were right where he last saw them, practically.

His father reading over some report or other from the office, his mother flipping through a lifestyle magazine, occasionally piping up about some interesting tidbit she had just read. Joey, still in the throes of high school, was doing homework at the antique writing desk. Nick cleared his throat a little when no one looked up when he came in.

  
“Nick!” His father said cordially. Mr. Carraway took his time setting down the report before vacating his armchair to embrace his son. He gruffly patted him on the back, bypassing an actual hug or anything resembling a hug. “How is university treating you?”

  
“University is fine.”

  
“Just fine?”

  
Nick paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. He was rusty. “University is great,” opting for a word that was better than fine, but not too overly enthusiastic, “Classes aren’t too hard, aren’t too easy. A nice happy-medium,” he nodded. He changed a slight smile at his father. Mr. Carraway seemed pleased and sat back down. Mrs. Carraway called Nick over to her and offered her cheek. He kissed it quickly so that he wouldn’t have to taste the powdery make up she always wore.

  
“Nick, darling,” she squeezed his hand. “I hope everyone is treating you well.” By treating him well, she meant up to par with his blood status; the proper amount of respect a Carraway was due. Nick nodded, grimacing a little at the implication. He thought of Jay and had to fight not to laugh. Their treatment of each other probably wasn’t what his mother imagined it should be. Joey waved a little from by the writing desk but turned quickly back to his homework. Nick took a deep breath. God, he forgot just how suffocating this family could be. He sat down a fair distance from his mother. The couch stayed stiff against his back, the leather firm and well cared for. His father had finished with his report and was eyeing him from across the room. Nick felt like a piece of meat on sale at the market and his father was trying to figure out the real worth of the cut.

  
“So Nick,” he began, “tell me more about what you’ve been up to?”

  
_Here we go._ “Not much. Focused on classes mainly. And uh, I joined the, uhm, joined the school newspaper,” Nick winced internally. He hadn’t told his father of his continued writing efforts, and probably shouldn’t have waited to do it in person.

  
“When you speak, speak decisively Nick. There’s no need for ‘uhm’s and ‘uh’s.” Mr. Carraway took a sip of his juice (it was too early for scotch) before continuing. “As for the newspaper, it’s a fine way to make connections. A nice little hobby to pass the time. But I wouldn’t get too attached to it. Wouldn’t want it to get in the way of your career, now, would we?”

  
“Yes sir.”

  
“And what about what I advised you to do?” Mr. Carraway peered over the top of his glasses, and not in a friendly way. It was if he was already expecting disappointment.

  
“Sir?”

  
“Well, the letter I sent you. The letter that received no reply,” his father smiled without warmth. Nick knew that harsh flint behind the glasses. It was no use even if he had listened to whatever “advice” his father had given: he had failed either way. “I want to be proud of the man you’re becoming. Have I any reason to be proud yet?”

  
Nick was speechless. He really didn’t know what to say. Sure, he could mention the articles he had written, or the soup kitchen he had helped in the other day. But writing and soup kitchens weren’t success in Mr. Carraway’s eyes: they were distractions. That left Nick with only one option:

  
“No, sir,” he hung his head.

  
“Eye contact,” His father sighed. Nick looked up to see his father casually cleaning his glasses on a cloth. Of course he wasn’t surprised. He expected so much and so little at the same time. Nick could already feel his insides shriveling. About now he was beginning to miss the numbing winds howling outside.

  
“What of the people I asked you to make contact with?”

  
Nick racked his brains. People? What people? Mr. Carraway took Nick’s few seconds of silence as another failure. “The Buchanans. The Greenes. The Klipspringers,” his father listed off dully. _Oh_. Nick grit his jaw. Now he remembered. There was no way his father could know what happened. That monster would be a bigger idiot than he thought they were if they had told anyone. No, they had stayed silent like him. Nick was sure of it. Still, the way his father pressed the matter had to be a taunt, a mockery. He knew it wasn’t, but that’s how it felt. The universe can be needlessly cruel sometimes. His voice came out steadied than he thought it was going to.

  
“I met Tom Buchanan, albeit briefly. He dating Daisy...my cousin,” he clarified when his dad looked a little lost at who Daisy was.

  
“Ah! You were always close with Daisy, so that will be an easy in with Buchanan,” his father nodded. Even though Nick had done “well”, it still wasn’t enough, “Any of the others?”

  
Nick’s heart clenched, sprigs of ice worming their way in at another mention of the _others_. “Haven’t had the pleasure,” he semi-growled. Mr. Carraway raised his eyebrows at the tone. He didn’t need to say so for Nick to know that he was close to overstepping his bounds. Nick could never hold his father’s gaze; he looked away in shame. But it seemed that Mr. Carraway was done with the questions for now.

  
“I’m sorry, Nick, but you arrived just after breakfast. We can have Estella warm something up for you.” Though his words made it seem like a kind gesture, his tone made it sound like a burden.

  
“I’m fine,” Nick assured him. Not one second later, his stomach decided it was the perfect time to groan like a moose. His father raised an eyebrow at him. His mother began to stand up to find Estella.

  
“I’m fine,” Nick repeated, more form this time. Even just 15 minutes with the Carraway clan was enough to drive him mad. His father hadn’t even waited to berate him. He came out the gate with what Nick hoped was, his hardest hitters. Once again, his mother had pretended to be immersed in her magazine during the tirade. She had gotten good at ignoring her husbands criticisms of her children over the years. It was best to let him do his own thing, even if it meant sacrificing the children to spare herself. Joey, however, wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions. Even with his back turned on the group, Nick could tell he was tense from the conversation. Idly, Nick wondered if the heat had turned on him yet or if he had managed to keep it at bay so far. It wouldn’t be long now: he was the lone child in the house. Nick rubbed the back of his neck. How he was supposed to survive tomorrow with these people, he had no clue.

  
His stomach rumbled again and he stood up. “I think I’m going to walk around the block, revisit memory lane,” he excused. He couldn’t leave that room fast enough. It was only 9:30 am on the first day and Nick was ready to scream.

 

Nick foolishly decided to walk around instead of getting another driver. _It can’t be that cold_. It could. His coat managed to keep him warm for about half a second. After that, it was useless. His pace quickened in front of the church, as well as when he passed St. Niles. His eyes remained resolutely in the ground in front of him. He had no need to look where he was going: he knew the way. Hopefully, the little cafe on the corner was still there. It was on the outskirts of the neighborhood and quite the walk, but worth it. As long as he was away from that house, and that street, sawing his own leg off was worth it.

  
The cafe was still decently crowded, given that it was still late-morning. Homemade turkeys and pilgrims adorned the glass, already giving it a more homey feeling than the cave he had just come from. He weaseled his way to a corner and into a low chair with threadbare coverings. The springs dig into your ass and back, and it squeaked every time you moved, even if it was just a blink. It was the best chair in the world. Nick settled in and let out a low breath. He wasn’t completely relaxed, and he never would be this entire trip, but this was as close to peace as he was going to find.

  
He remained situated in the lump of a chair until the crowd finned out. Only then did he go up to the counter. The barista (Emily) still recognized him. She clapped in excitement and tried to hug him over the counter. In the end they settled for a high five. She still knew his order. Not surprising considering she had to make it for him almost every afternoon his senior year.

  
“So, one latte, easy on the foam?” She smiled her real smile and not the one she reserved for customer service.

  
“Not today.” Emily gasped dramatically. “I’ll just take a hot cider if you have those?” Emily nodded and set to work.

  
“You got it, hoss.”

  
Nick wandered back to his chair where he could watch the people of Chicago pass by. He loved where the cafe was; right on the line of the ridiculously wealthy and the average joe. It was always amusing to see how the two worlds collided. Some days it was a more harmonious collision. Other days, it was better to sit a little farther from the window. But with Thanksgiving so close, most everyone was in a good mood. Then again, most everyone wasn’t stuck with the Carraway family.

  
Emily was by in a few minutes with a cider and a danish.

  
“Oh I didn’t order-”

  
“On the house,” she winked, “It’s good to see you back, Nick.” _Why is everyone else always winking? And why are they so good at it?_ Emily hurried back behind the counter and Nick was about to take a tentative first sip when-

  
“Oh she’s definitely flirting with you.”

  
“Ruth!”

  
Leaning smugly over the back of Nick’s chair was his older sister who he hadn’t seen in years. Unlike the rest of his family, she had changed quite a bit. He wouldn’t have recognized her if it wasn’t for her voice.

  
Ruth Carraway was about as far from a Carraway as you could get. She had run away at seventeen with her boyfriend after prom. Even though she had technically graduated, she never walked the stage to get her diploma. She never cared. Ruth had hauled ass to San Francisco. Nick had never really been sure what had become of her. All he knew was that she was trying her hand at start-up and that their father had cut her off, disowned her. He would become furious if he had found out anyone had been in contact with her. For years, Nick Carraway Sr. had no daughter. Ruth didn’t mind it. She had every attention of never seeing her family again...except for Nick. It had always been her and Nick against the world. That’s what she said anyways. But then she abandoned him, traded him in for the west coast. She couldn’t live with that. So she fought her way back in for Nick. She never visited, God no. However, she called him without fail at least once a week. She probably had no idea just how much she had saved Nick with those phone calls.

  
Ruth was Nick’s senior by 6 years, but acted like the gap was much larger than that. This was where her and Daisy were all too similar. They felt the need to mother Nick, even though he was practically the same age. The last time he had seen Ruth was when she was getting ready for prom. Her hair had been long and wild. He had sat at her vanity with her as she fought with the “wild beast on her head”. In the end, she had got it to behave. Ruth never wore make up if she could help it, but in front of the mirror, with her hair curled over her shoulder, lashes dark, and lips deep red, he thought she looked like a princess. True, he had always thought that Ruth was a princess. Or a spy. Or a ninja. Or a superhero. Now, her chestnut locks had been chopped off so that her hair was shorter than Nick’s. One side had triangular patterns shaved into it. The hair left on top was a brilliant platinum. Apparently, she had decided to start wearing makeup too. The person over him was a stranger and his best friend.

  
Nick jumped up from his seat and spun around to squeeze his sister tightly.

  
“Oh my god, Ruth! I thought you weren’t coming?”

  
“Changed my mind,” she wrinkled her pointed nose at him. She reminded him of a more badass Draco Malfoy with her hair like this. More badass, and more beautiful.

  
“And by the way, that barista? Totally hitting on you. Trust me, I was a barista. We don’t give free danishes away for nothing!”

  
Nick pushed at her lightly, blush spreading up his neck. “That’s just Emily. She’s nice like that.”

  
“God, you’re dense,” she laughed and pulled Nick in for a hug once more.

  
After a few more hours in the cafe (and a subdued goodbye from Emily) Ruth and Nick walked home arm in arm. It was a long ways to the house, and Ruth despised the cold. Maybe that was why she ran away to San Francisco. Maybe she thought it would be warmer than Chicago. Ruth filled Nick in on the past seven years of her life. She had a small start-up company that was doing well and still growing. All of dad’s “pearls of wisdom” had stuck with her and she was using them to push her way into the market. Ruth was a talker, and unlike a majority of the population, had no problem talking about herself. Now, she wasn’t narcissistic. She just had so many plans she was passionate about, she never knew when to shut up about them. And Nick, if anything, was more a listener than a talker. Ruth’s chattering was soothing. Oh how he had missed it. Their last phone call was his summer before his senior year, but it was like no time had passed between them. In that respect, everything had stayed the same. It was the first time he was glad that nothing had changed this trip.

  
“So, when did you escape to the cafe?”

  
“About 9:30.”

  
“Hell,” she laughed, “that’s longer than I could ever last.” There was a beat of silence, but one never had to wait in silence long with Ruth. “What d’you think dearest papa and darling mama will think of their unexpected visitor?”

  
“Who cares?” Nick laughed, kissing her temple, “I’m just glad you’re here to fight through tomorrow with me.” Ruth snuggled into Nick against another passing bout of wind.

  
“Glad to be here,” she grumbled into her scarf.

* * *

 

Mr. Carraway was just as infuriated that his daughter was here as Nick was delighted. Of course, he never out right said it. He never out right said anything. His fury was evident in the way he didn’t say anything at all. His nostrils flared when Ruth waltzed into the living room. He didn’t bother to greet her. Even Joey, who had only been 8 when she left, got up to hug his sister. Ruth saluted their father as she left the room after she was successful in catching his eye.

  
“You really shouldn’t provoke him like that,” Nick whispered in her room that night. Ruth had only brought a backpack with her to carry her essentials. She was currently trying to take out her contacts in the limited light of her old room. She scoffed at Nick’s comment, who was currently lounging on the guest bed.

  
“What is he gonna do? I’m an adult, I make my own decisions. He can’t do anything to me,” she shrugged. He kicked off her jeans and pushed Nick over to make room for her on the bed. Ruth had never had a problem with modesty, or lack thereof. Nick used to be fine with it, but that was when he was 11. It felt a little different now that he was 18. And by a little different, he meant a lot weird. Ruth shuffled underneath the covers and whapped Nick for her pillow back. He begrudgingly gave her back the pillow he had been using to prop his elbows up.

  
“So, how has my dearest Nicky been?” She patted his leg gently this time.

  
Nick shrugged and plucked at a string on the cuff of his sweater. “I’m doing ok. As well as I can. My roommates been a big help...you know how...nervous I can get.” Ruth hummed in agreement.

  
“Who’s your roommate?”

  
Nick flipped so that his head was by her end of the bed now. He crossed his arms under his head and sighed to himself. Today had been so consuming, he barely had any time to spare Jay a thought. Jay or...the dream. But Ruth had just given him the perfect opportunity to reflect, this time in a more controlled, more rational state of mind.

  
“His name is Jay. Jay is,” Nick let out a happy sigh and shrugged, “Jay is Jay. He’s the best man, no, person, I’ve ever known. He’s selfless, and always smiling. He’s also really good at winking. I can never pull it off but him? It’s like his signature move. I don’t deserve him as a friend. I treat him like shit but he’s always there for me, waiting for me to need him again. He sees the world with so much optimism and hope, I can’t even begin to understand it. There’s not one bad thing about him, not one dark spot. I don’t know, I just...I don’t know,” Nick breathed out. He had spoken rather quickly, rattling off every detail of Jay he could think of. Just thinking of Jay made his head lighter, his chest warmer. Nick looked over at Ruth after she had been quiet for a while. Her eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, lips in a suppressed smile. It was an uncanny resemblance to that one picture of Tom Holland.

  
“What?”

  
“You’re in looove,” she squished his cheeks lovingly. Nick jerked back and sat up.

  
“No way! You don’t understand. Jay is just...he’s just a great guy. And he’s my roommate!” He scoffed, “And I’m not...I’m not...into guys...like that.” A blatant lie, and they both knew it.  Silence.

  
“You’re in looove!”

  
“It’s useless talking to you,” Nick rolled his eyes and off the bed. Ruth’s teasing laugh followed him back to his own room. He very grumpily got ready for bed, forcefully pulling off his shirt and jeans. _What does she know?_ Nick opened his suitcase, face turning red hot wat the sight of his pajama bottoms from last night. He had intended to wash them...too late. They were probably ruined now. He pushed them aside and grabbed another pair, forgetting to be mad at Ruth. Before settling in for bed, he grabbed his phone to turn off his alarm. There was no need for alarms on break. However, Nick was distracted from the alarm. On his screen, a message was waiting for him. A message from Jay. Nick didn’t hesitate to open it up.

  
_Hope your trip going well. Sad you didn’t say goodbye, but ok. See you Friday. You can do it!_

  
Nick snorted to himself. He quickly tapped out a response before going on to turn off his alarm. There was no need to be afraid of a repeat from last night. The day had been exhausting, and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The last thought he had before drifting off was of Jay, back on campus or maybe with his own family, waiting excitedly for Nick’s reply.

_I never say goodbye, if I can help it. See you Friday, Jitterbug._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long ass chapter! But it was an important one. We’re finally getting into the big parts of the story, so chapters might start getting a little longer. But none of you have a problem with that, right?
> 
> Also, if anyone was wondering, that one picture of Tom Holland that gets mentioned is the infamous “swallowed the frog” picture. Here’s a link. Hopefully it works!  
> https://the-athenian-pamphleteer.tumblr.com/post/173809579899/rygoz-sonseulsoleil-tom-hollands-face-when
> 
> I’m on tumblr by the same name @sewer-seance. Feel free to ask my questions or just plain talk to me if you need someone to talk to. Sometimes I post art on their from the fic, or put chapter updates.


	12. Snoopy and Woodstock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Thanksgiving day and being back with all of his family leads Nick to reminiscing about his childhood.

Nick’s phone went off at 6:30 the next morning: a quick succession of three pings. Eyes still closed, he fumbled around for his phone. Luckily he had remembered to turn the brightness down from the night before. Lighting up his screen were a few texts from Jay:

  
_So I’m Jitterbug now, Dante?_

  
_Why do you never say goodbye?_

  
_How’s the family, btw?_

  
Nick rolled his eyes. So many questions. And so early too. Jay must’ve forgotten the hour difference. Still, his chest warmed up considerably at seeing Jay’s name displayed three times on his phone. He only became aware that he was smiling when he cheeks began to hurt. Nick flopped onto his back, smiling into his hands, completely forgetting to respond to Jay. Just for the moment, though. He felt ridiculous. A simple name shouldn’t make him melt inside, or make him want to giggle into a pillow like a love sick school girl. If he kept on like this, he would have no other choice than to admit that Ruth was right. And maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she was.

  
He was tired of fighting his quickened pulse, of the rush of blood to his cheeks. He never let himself think past any possibility other than he was just glad to have Jay as a friend. The truth was Jay made him ridiculously happy. He was the reason that Nick’s heart would begin to race. Jay had been tormenting Nick’s thoughts as he battled years of teachings drilled into his brain that his feelings were invalid. And he was tired of fighting all of it. Lying there in bed, he let his mind wander.

  
Nick closed his eyes as he tried to imagine what it would be like to hold Jay’s hand, to have his fingers wrapped around his own. He squeezed his hand into a fist, hoping that somehow Jay’s long, slender fingers would appear there. Even though he had limited experience to begin with, he tried to imagine how it might feel to have Jay’s lips on his. In truth, it was easier than trying to imagine holding his hand. Already, he knew that Jay would smile as they kissed. He would keep laughing, ruining the moment but it wouldn’t matter because they would both be happy. He would try to whisper to Nick between gentle brush of their lips. Whether he heard him or not, Nick wouldn’t care because he was kissing Jay Gatsby.

  
Another ping of his phone brought him out of the haze he had worked himself into. Blushing guiltily, feeling like he had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, he looked back over at his phone. His blush only deepened when he saw it was another text from Jay.

  
_You alive?_

  
This time, Nick texted back instead of dozing off again.

  
_I‘m surviving. Family is the same as always. I’m just glad I’ll be home tomorrow. We can make a big whole day of taking all of our one decoration down. Also, time zones are a thing._

  
Nick switched his phone back off. Though he would like to stay in bed for a couple more hours and pretend that Jay was there with him, he couldn’t today. Today was Thanksgiving. The sooner he started the day, the sooner it could be over and done with.

  
Thanksgiving in the Carraway household was like most other holidays: it was a formal event from dawn till dusk. There would be no sleeping in and then wandering out still in pajamas. No lounging on the couch, half watching the thanksgiving day parade. It was bright and early in a nice blazer and slack. A bougie sweater was also acceptable, but pushing the limits. Nick very much felt that he was preparing for battle as he slipped into his clothes. He chose the armor and comfort of another sweater his mother had gotten him. This one, unlike yesterday’s grey, he actually liked. The first step of dealing with family is to build up confidence so that you can withstand their attacks for longer. If he was confident on his appearance, then his stamina for today’s conversations would hold out longer.

  
The second step was not to have any hard opinions on anything. Don’t get emotionally involved. So far, Nick hadn’t done a good job of that. But today, he had prepared a happy place he could go to if the conversation became too hairy. That happy place may or may not include a certain someone. Aside from that, he wouldn’t be facing the gorgons alone. Ruth was with him this time, for the first time.

* * *

 

_The closet was cramped and stuffy. A sleeve of a fur coat tickled Nick’s ear. It was dark and almost silent, but he wasn’t afraid. Ruth had one arm around him and let him rest his head against her shoulder. Most twelve year olds wouldn’t hide in one of their family’s many coat closets with a brother half their age, but Ruth was different. Nick was her toadie, and hers to protect. She had gotten an old mink TV set to work. Don’t ask her how, she just hit it a few times and voila: static glory. While Ruth carefully listened to the arrival of guest after guest, unknown family member after unknown family member, Nick comfortably watched the Thanksgiving Day Parade for the first time. Yes, the picture was fuzzy and there was no sound for fear they would be caught. But it was wonderful. His bow tie was crooked, his pants bunched. He worried about wrinkles, even at 6 years old. Ruth told him not to worry, that wrinkles were a very good thing to have. Ruth’s skirts were pulled off her legs because of the itchy tool. Instead, she draped them over Nick’s lap, just in case he wasn’t warm enough._

  
_“What’s that?”_

  
_“Snoopy.”_

  
_“What’s that?”_

  
_“Snoopy’s best friend, Woodstock.”_

  
_Nick’s finger bumped against the glass each time he pointed at the balloons. Ruth had to pull him back by her side._

  
_“What’s th-”_

  
_“Shush”_

  
_Nick waited patiently, following his sister’s gaze as she stared hard at the door. The light seeping from the crack under the door flickered as someone walked by. He didn’t understand when Ruth scooted closer to the wall and deeper into the closet. He settled back into the crook of her neck and watched happily as Snoopy and Woodstock floated off the screen and the next balloon came into view._

* * *

 

Nick waited until about 7:30 to wander out of his room. There was a strong possibility that Ruth wouldn’t be up yet. She had been separated from the Carraway rules for so long that she had probably forgotten them. In any case, Ruth would be delighted to know that she had broken any kind of rule, spoken or unspoken. She wouldn’t be too delighted when she found out that meant missing breakfast. As expected, the rest of his family was already up and beginning to sit at themselves in the breakfast nook. Nick scored a seat at the end, sliding in next to Joey.

  
Joseph was a nice kid, through no fault of his own. He was docile, but not in the same way Nick was. Nick often gave off the impression of a deer in the headlights, or a squirrel ready to bolt across the street. Joey was docile in the way a trained dog was. He barked when their father asked him too, or chased after his tail when commanded. Any personality he might have had had been strictly wrung out of him. The Carraways has learned the dangers of letting your children have a personality after Ruth. They wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  
“Hey Nick, do you want to toss the football around with me in the park before dinner?”

  
Nick tried not to snort at that. As if he could ever be on the same field as Joey, let alone be expected to play with him. Yet, Joey wouldn’t look away from Nick. He munched thoughtfully on his toast, eyes bright and eager for a yes. Nick had to look away. Something about that light seemed so familiar, and he couldn’t say no and distinguish it.

  
“Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

  
Joey sat up a little straighter and smiled to himself. Nick had never given Joey much thought, as harsh as that sounds. He was a clone of exactly what their parents wanted in a child. It never occurred to Nick that it hadn’t happened naturally. Now that Ruth and Nick were out of the house, had the subtle wrath and neglect of their mother fallen on Joey? Maybe having his siblings back in the house for a few days was heaven to him.

  
The breakfast was certainly an upgrade from the pop tarts he had been stealing from Jay for the last month. It was a real, proper breakfast, the kind you see on TV. Eggs, bacon, toast. It was almost too basic. Nick thought of the soup kitchen as he stared down at his plate. All they had gotten was a choice of a few cereals. Suddenly, he wasn’t very hungry anymore. As if reading his thoughts, he father spoke up.

  
“You’re not touching your food, Nick.” It wasn’t a question.

  
“No sir,” Nick confirmed. _It’s only 7:40._

  
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, son. I always have a hearty breakfast before I do anything.”

  
“Yes sir.”

  
Mr. Carraway dropped his fork rather roughly onto his plate and stared Nick down from the other end of the nook. His face was unreadable but Nick just knew he had done something to make him angry.

  
“Is that all you can say? Yes sir? No sir?”  
Nick didn’t answer. His instinct was to say no sir.

  
“Is that all I’ve taught you? To respond with yes sir and no sir?” _Yes_. “Because it seems I must have. That’s all you’ve said this whole damn trip. I trust you’ll be more talkative at dinner. With that big brain of yours and all the reading you do.” A very different atmosphere descended over the group. Mr. Carraway hardly ever lost his cool, even just a little bit. Mind games were his preferred method. Actually shouting, and over breakfast no less. Nick, unsurprisingly, found himself split. A tiny part of him wanted to yell back. Another slightly bigger part wanted to walk out. The majority of him was slightly scarred and thought it would be easiest to just try and comply with his father’s wishes. He quietly began to doctor up a piece of toast. There was no point in saying sorry, or making excuses. The best route from here would just be to try and please his father. The little family stayed quiet the rest of breakfast. Ruth didn’t show up.

* * *

 

_“You will take that cheap, white trash ring out and we’re going to get it sealed up,” his father’s voice shook in repressed rage. Ruth calmly flicked her hair behind her shoulder._

  
_“No,” she scoffed._

  
_Nick watched from between the railing outside his room at the scene below him. He had never heard his father or mother yell. Definitely not enough to wake both him and Joey. Despite the late hour, they had both snuck out of their rooms to investigate the scene. Joey had watched their sister and parents fight for all of thirty seconds before tugging on Nick’s sleeve._

  
_“Let’s go back to bed,” he whimpered, “we’re not supposed to be awake.”_

_Perhaps he was worried that should they be caught, they would be yelled at next. Nick, however, knew that they were too occupied with Ruth. He shook Joey off his arm._

  
_“But I want to see.”_

  
_“I’m going to bed.” Nick didn’t look back when he heard his younger brother scampered off and shut his door with the softest click._

  
_His mother had no problem going through her range of emotions. Shock, hurt, outrage, pleading, scorn. All in that order: “How could you scar your body like this?”_

_“It’s so cheap looking, how are you going to go out in public?”_

_“Do you even care what the other ladies are going to say once everyone sees what you’ve done to yourself? You only think about yourself, but never about your poor mother. You’ve made me into a laughing stock.”_

  
_Ruth didn’t budge. From his hidden spot between the rails, he saw a glimmer in her nose. She had gotten a piercing! Nick let out a little breath of respect. Not so much for the piercing. That, well, it was only a matter of time. She always said she would look good with one. His respect came from the way she was staring down their father. Even now, in the safety of his anonymity, he couldn’t look at his father. His face was stony. Shadows danced across his face, cast from the fireplace, making him look a thousand years older. Even one glance would haunt his nightmares. Yet here Ruth was, staring him down, all the while ignoring their mother’s tirade. Finally, Mr. Carraway spoke up._

  
_“You will take that cheap, white trash ring out, and we’re going to get it sealed up.”_

  
_“No.”_

  
_Their father rose from his chair. “What did you say?”_

  
_“I said, nooo,” Ruth leaned forward and spat the words out. Nick held his breath. She was getting heated up too fast. She wouldn’t last long against dad if she let passion get the best of her._

  
_“Ungrateful brat!” Mr. Carraway shouted suddenly. Even mother jumped. “Do you have any idea of the image this entire family has to uphold? I expect, no, demand, that my children keep and enforce that image!” He started for Ruth and Nick clapped his hands to his mouth. Dad wouldn’t...hit one of his own children, would he? If it left a mark...imagine the rumors… Mr. Carraway must have had the same revelation, because he never touched her, but he continued to yell._

  
_“Take it out!”_

  
_“Fuck you!”_

  
_Nick had never heard that word before. The two continued to shout until Ruth stormed up the stairs, passion getting the better of her. Nick scurried back to his room before Ruth breached the top of the stairs. He jumped into bed as the door next to his slammed shut hard enough to make his precious Snoopy and Woodstock figurines rattle on their shelf. Nick tried to quiet his breathing to hear if anything else was going to happen. After a few minutes of silence, he figure that was the end of it. Even so, he couldn’t sleep. Ruth had a piercing. He smiled to himself. Once again, he thought about how cool Ruth was. Imagine the catastrophe, though, if his parents ever found out about her tattoo._

* * *

  
  
Nick caught the ball right before it hit his nose. His reflexes were never fast to begin with. The prolonged exposure to the cold made it even worse. He and Joey had been playing some half-assed version of football for about two hours now. There was still no sign of him slowing down. To be fair, the first hour had been entirely wasted on trying to teach Nick how to actually throw a football, spiral and all. Feeling a little silly, and a little like he was back in P.E., Nick let his younger brother coach him. There was no holding back in the celebration when Nick finally got the ball to spiral. But now, all Nick wanted was to get back home. Even with his parents there. Cold and sports were two of the worst things.

  
“Let’s head back,” Nick shakily called over to Joey as he lamely threw the ball, sans spiral. Joey ran forward to catch the ball on the bounce. He drooped a little, but nodded.

  
“Yeah, you are kind of clenching up.”

  
Nick, arms crushed around his sides as he visibly shivered, had to bite back his retort. The walk back was painful. Not physically, even though Nick’s fingers and toes were and had been numb. It was the conversation: tense and awkward. They had never been good at talking with each other. Their interests seemed so different, and Nick couldn’t find any common ground. In any case, his brother ran with a very different crowd. Nick didn’t deserve to talk to him. Joey was high school royalty. Nick was very much not. Joey didn’t really try to hold any type of conversation either. He would ask him about college, but nothing of worth. Was the food any good? Was it lonely being on his own? Was college anything like high school? Nick’s answers were short, a maximum of two sentences at best. Still, Joey seemed satisfied. Most of the walk back was dominated by silence that Nick felt pressured to fill. He didn’t. Nick looked over at Joey, expecting to see a similar cringe, but no. He twirled the football idly between his hands, no real firm expression on his face. Nick could only guess that he was happy, but he couldn’t be sure. Joey could just as easily be upset.

  
Nick shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. Even though he was very aware of the inappropriate amount of time he spent thinking about his roommate, his thoughts turned once again to Jay. He couldn’t help it. Jay would know how to engage Joey in conversation. He could hold a conversation with anyone with zero effort. Nick reasoned that it was only part admiration and mostly jealousy that spurred these thoughts. In any case, a small part of him missed Jay and wished he was here. He looked like he had done his fair share of sports. Joey would love him since he could talk to him. Jay was really the brother that Joey deserved. However, the thought didn’t hurt Nick. Because if Jay was Joey’s brother, than he would be the Carraway and Nick could just be Nick.

  
Joey nudged Nick a little out of his reverie. He knew his older brother was prone to deep thinking. Not that there was a problem with it; it was just boring when Nick drew into his head and left him on his own.

  
“Home,” Joey said simply, heading up the steps. If he hadn’t said so, Nick would’ve kept walking, too lost in thought to remember where he lived. As soon as they walked through the front door, Joey becomes reserved and quiet, a shocking contrast from the little boy he had been only an hour earlier.

  
“Thanks,” he muttered, “I had fun.” Something told Nick he was being sincere. He nodded to his brother, smiling. Neither of them had really been raised to be able to show familial affection. Still, a smile went a long way.

  
It was still relatively early in the day: Nick figured he had an hour or two before dinner would be called. Now was good as any time to read, maybe write a little. He knew he should but he just didn’t want to. He couldn’t focus enough to read and besides, he didn’t know what type of book he was craving. All of his books were in his dorm anyways. As for writing, he was absolutely too tired and too cold to bother. Instead, he wandered upstairs to his room (Joey had went on his own way). He wrapped himself up in the large comforter of his bed, making a Nick burrito. He sighed and rolled into his side, grabbing his phone. He didn’t really have a plan in mind, just anything to waste the few hours left before dinner. Maybe he would watch YouTube or scroll through endless pages of memes that would allow him to disconnect from reality for a while. Instead, waiting for him was another text from Jay.

  
_Tom is a fine turkey. He deserves a ceremonial taking down off our wall_.

  
Nick scoffed to himself and quickly tapped out a message. Hadn’t Jay thought that Tom Turkey was kindergarten level work and teased Nick ceaselessly about it? He reminded Jay just of that and eagerly waited for a response. It wasn’t like he should expect a response. After all, Jay was probably in the middle of his one holiday. But not a few seconds later, Nick’s phone buzzed.

  
_He’s trying his best. Like you. Anyways, I need you to do me a favor._

  
Nick’s heart began to thump very noisily against his chest. What on earth could Jay want? And what could Nick possibly do for him?

  
_Sure. What is it?_

  
He hoped that seemed casual enough. It was much easier to play casual with writing. Writing was sooo much easier than talking. Buzz.

  
_Can you find the Salt and Pepper dinner for me and take a picture?_

  
Nick actually snorted this time, his laughter bursting out through his nose. As he text Jay back and forth the next few hours, he forgot that he was in his childhood bedroom, about to go to Thanksgiving dinner. All the chill was drawn out of his bones as Jay still managed to make him laugh just through text. All the stress he had from being back in town lifted off his shoulders, if just for a moment.

  
_Thank you. I think you’re the only thing keeping me sane right now._

  
He typed out the message but his finger hovered over the send button. In the end, he deleted it with a few seconds debate. Instead, he stared at Jay’s name lighting up his screen and the profile pic Jay had snapped. If was a ridiculous picture: oversized hot pink sunglasses rest askew on his face, a crooked smile sticking out from just underneath. He stared at the picture. Just stared. All his stress from visiting family was replaced by a different feeling. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad yet. What he did know was that it was a gnawing feeling, eating away at the deepest part of him. A sort of longing for something he had never experienced. What was that called? There must be a word for this feeling somewhere. Buzz.

  
_Well, you haven’t responded in a while, so I’m gonna assume that your parents rang a bell and called you to dinner. Stuff yourself, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Just a few more hours, Nicky. You can do it._

  
Only Daisy had ever called him Nicky.

* * *

 

_Nick had no idea what she was putting on her face, but it was fun to watch. A little black swoop in the edge of her eye, powder on her cheeks, lips expertly painted violet. Ruth had let him pull up a chair to watch her get ready for prom. Someone ought to care. It wasn’t the first time Nick had sat at her vanity. When they were younger, Ruth would steal her mother’s makeup and play beauty parlor with Nick. He half expected himself to be next for a makeover. But he was too old for that now. Besides, makeup was girls stuff. He didn’t know what gay meant, or what it was but it was what his dad had called him the last time Ruth put makeup on him. And judging by the way he spit the word, it must not be a good thing. Still, Nick loved to watch Ruth put on her makeup. It was like watching an artist at work on their canvas._

  
_While pulling her curls half up she paused and glanced at Nick’s reflection beside her in the mirror. She lowered her arms slowly, her hair tumbling back over her shoulders. Nick smiled and thought about how much she looked like a princess in her flowy dress and her hair actually washed and styled. Not that Ruth wasn’t always pretty: she was. This was just a different level, Nick decided. She turned to face him, suddenly serious. All night she had been making goofy faces at him through the mirror, but now there was no smile._

  
_“You know where I keep my nose ring, right?”_

  
_Nick nodded and grabbed the little hidden jewelry box from one of the drawers close to him. Ruth had eventually “ceded” to her parents wishes to take out her piercing, but she had never really gotten rid of it. She smiled mournfully at Nick before taking the box. He watched, grabbing his own nose, as she shoved the ring back in. It looked good, but at what cost. Ruth was turning back to him, only now the corners of her eyes were beginning to tear up. Wow, the nose ring must really hurt to put back in._

  
_“It’s ok, Ruth,” Nick nuzzled carefully into her shoulder to not mess up her hair or dress, “It will only hurt for a little bit.” He felt a heavy, hot, wet something drop onto his forehead. When he looked up, Ruth was full on crying._

  
_“I love you Nick, ok?”_

  
_“Ok,” he agreed, not really understanding what Love was yet._

  
_When Ruth said goodbye that night, stepping out the door with her date, she lingered just a little bit longer in the doorway. Nick waved excitedly from the top of the stairs._

  
_“Bye! Have fun, Ruth!”_

  
_Her lips were once again turned downward, and her eyes started to glisten. She nodded, but left without saying goodbye. Her nose must still hurt, Nick thought to himself._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was kind of part one of thres of looking into Nick’s last and kind of beginning to understand why he has his issues, when they all began, so on and so on. Not so much Jay in this chapter (sadness) but lots of Jay in the next! Thanks for humoring me and going through with all his flashbacks and family info. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long for his chapter to come out! I wrote! I promise I did. But I’m also doing a lot of college stuff right now, trying to get into programs and stuff. Yes. It’s fun.... Even though I am a little more busy than usual, I’m gonna try my very best to have the next chapter out sooner than this one was. Never fear, I fully intend to finish this fic. I have everything planned out: it’s just a matter of getting there. 
> 
> If you guys have any questions or just want to talk to me (cause I’m always down to chat), I’m on tumblr by the same name (@sewer-seance). Also, you can occasionally find art and memes there too. 
> 
> Love you guys and I also love hearing from you! Honestly, it’s what motivates me to write.


	13. Compass Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Nick’s dad is a homophobic asshole and it does NOT go well.

Nick had officially decided that he hated airplanes. It always seemed that Nick was sick in one way or another during flight. Whether that was exhaustion to the point of nausea or his stomach rolling in painful, anxious bile. He had never been on an airplane and not felt sick. But he supposed that he could expect a nerve induced stomach ache when he switched his flight last minute.

  
Dinner had gone as well as could’ve been expected; worse in fact. So much so that he had changed his flight from late next morning to that night. Forget any plans of staying for one more extra half day. He may be Dante, but he had no intention of staying in that frozen over hell any longer than he had to. Certainly not one more night. Not after that cluster fuck of a Thanksgiving.

  
It had taken a fair amount of stress, impassioned determination, and one migraine to successfully change his flight. Nick would’ve gladly given both his arms and legs if it had meant that he could get out. Even one full day had proven too much for him. With Ruth showing up as well...that was too much. Sure, he had been glad to see her. He just wished it hadn’t been after such a long time and in that damned house. The scenes of a few hours earlier kept him awake as he waited for the plane to board. Once again, he had shown up much too early rather than wait in a tense environment. The dream of three days ago nearly forgotten, now he just couldn’t wait to get home.

  
Not even 4 hours on the plane during the dead hours of night could tempt him to close his eyes, or quiet his mind. At least his breathing had slowed down from its erratic pace. Sleep evaded him the entire flight and he was too...nothing on the inside to do much else besides stare dumbly forward at the seat in front of him. There was no motivation to move for a book or anything like that. He was drained. He was nothing. It’s hard to feel anything in particular when you are feeling nothing. Several times, however, he felt the need to squeeze his eyes shut, afraid a random exhaustive tear might try to make its escape. Closing his eyes only amplified the shouts, so he tried to keep his eyes open, even going so far as trying not to blink. Eyes significantly more watery and burning, the plane finally landed at three and Nick was finally walking into his dorm a half hour later.

  
Like the house of his childhood, not much had changed. Good. Afterall, he had only been gone two days. It would be more upsetting if things had changed from the cozy, familiar atmosphere that he and Jay had managed to create. He smiled at the sight of Tom Turkey, still hanging proudly by the couch, now featuring sunglasses. Nick’s whole body sagged in a sigh, finally letting fatigue wash over him. He could relax. He was home.

  
Nick tried to pull his suitcase along with him, but it remained resolutely nailed to the floor next to door. His hand lamely slid off the handle. Oh well, it could be dealt with in the morning. His bag slumped off his shoulder and landed somewhere between the front door and his bed. Who knew exactly where. Again, to be dealt with in the morning. Nick was the last thing to drop. Still fully clothed, his knees collided with the edge of his bed and he plummeted into duvet bliss. He was dead to the world as soon as he collapsed, legs sticking out halfway off the bed. He woke several hours later with a start. A shout, followed by a dull thud and a deep groan pervaded his dreamless sleep. Nick scrambled upward, blinded by the early morning sunlight streaming in. He shook his head, feeling thoroughly lost and confused.

  
“Who is it? What’s happening?” he meant to shout, but it came out as a sleep-deprived garbled version. “Swoot?! Swats ning?!” he cried out. Damn. He couldn’t see a thing without his contacts and he couldn’t remember where he had placed his glasses after coming home. He just barely made out Jay’s outline near the door. He was holding his face in both his hands, groaning from somewhere deep in his belly. Nick searched blindly across his bed covers before knocking on his glasses. He immediately regretted putting them on. Apparently Jay had elected to just wear his boxers to bed with Nick out of town. _Ohmygod_. Had it always been this hot in their room? _Stop looking! Stop looking before he catches you!_ Nick didn’t stop looking. Was that...a tattoo? Surely enough, it was. The top of a rather elegant compass rose just peeked over the edge of his boxers on his right hip. Nick quickly shut his mouth and tried to draw his eyes away from the calligraphic N.

  
“Welcome home!” came Jay’s muffled greeting through his hands. The sound of Jay’s voice called Nick back to reality and to action. He stumbled off the bed and into Jay. _Oh god don’t touch his chest_. He pulled the offending hands away from Jay’s face, revealing a dark red nose.

  
“What did you do?”

  
“Well, I was getting up to take a shower, and then I was going to clean up a bit, then I was going to go pick you up at the airport because I thought your flight came in later, but then i saw there was some fucking dude in your bed, and I got distracted and I ran into the doorframe,” Jay said rather quickly and gestured widely to distract from his growing blush.

  
“And you survived on your own for two days?”

  
“Well, there weren’t any strange men in your bed during those two days!” Jay quipped back, rubbing at his nose again.  
Nick couldn’t help but laugh. Jay looked so grumpy, which was more of a pleasant surprise because Jay never looked grumpy. And oh god, he had run into the door frame! Even if Jay didn’t see it as such, these type of shenanigans never could happen in the Carraway household. It was good to be back. Nick slumped onto Jay’s shoulder before remembering the poor guy was just standing there in his underwear. Not to mention had been wearing these clothes for a good 24 hours. He jumped off of Jay’s shoulder, maybe expecting a reprimand for behaving so loosely and hanging off of him. There was no reprimand here. Jay was smiling, despite his nose. Fuck, it was good to see that smile again.

  
“Well, I’m glad one of us thinks its funny.”

  
“Everyone would think it’s funny. You ran into the door frame, dumbass.”

  
Jay pouted again at that, “I would tell you to go back to Chicago for that, but I don’t want you to leave again, so I’ll allow it.” _He doesn’t want me to leave_. Nick’s heart stuttered, and he thought it was best he step away from Jay now.

  
“Well, I guess I’ll let you get to that shower.”

  
“I don’t really need it.”

  
Nick raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. He knew he wasn’t one to speak, but it wasn’t so easy to pass up this opportunity to tease Jay. He had missed it too much. Jay, in turn, scoffed and rumpled his hair.

  
“Fine, but don’t go anywhere. We gotta plan for Tom Turkey’s going away party.”

  
_As if I would rather be anywhere else_.

* * *

 

It was around 2 in the afternoon when Nick began to become more than a little suspicious. So far, no other relatives had shown up. It was just the five of them, which would make it nearly impossible to slip into the background. Wasn’t Thanksgiving a family holiday. After a nice chunk of time devoted to mindlessly texting Jay to keep himself sane, Nick realized the time. He was certain he was going to be chewed out for not being down in time to help greet guests. But as he rushed down the stairs, he realized that he hadn’t heard the doorbell ring once. He cautiously made his way into the parlor area. Everyone, except Ruth, was sitting around, looking very gregorian family painting esque. He swore they were in the exact same positions that he had first found them in yesterday morning. Except Joey. He was standing next to the fireplace, dressed in his evening outfit. He brightened when Nick entered the room. Finally, another person of flesh and blood rather than stone.

  
“Where’s the rest of the family?” Nick interrupted the stiff silence.

  
“Schedules didn’t line up this year,” his mother offered simply. She glanced up briefly before saying, “No tie, Nick?” He ignored that last comment. Nick sat down at the desk, the farthest seat from his parents, so as to avoid fidgeting. Neither liked him fidgeting. It was a sign of weakness, and wasn’t proper decorum. However, the risk of their scrutiny only made him want to fidget more. He only had to wait a couple of awkward minutes before Ruth finally entered the parlor. On no, this was going to be a _long_ dinner. She had neglected any sort of skirt or dress, which didn't bother Nick none. His parents, though, were suckers for tradition, and their daughter wearing a suit to dinner wasn’t exactly their idea of traditional.

  
“Alrighty, let's get to those birds,” she clapped her hands together and smiled harshly at their parents.

  
The turkey had hardly been cut into before their mother couldn’t hold in the suit issue any longer. From there, it only got worse. Now, Nick didn’t mind a nice discussion about politics, as long as it was with the right people, and it stayed with politics. His family weren’t the right kind of people, and they had no problem blurring the lines of politics and basic human rights. Nick chewed sadly on a bit of roll, only half-listening to the argument raging around him. He looked across the table at Joey, who in turn was staring resolutely at the gravy pool in his mashed potatoes. Nick had stopped paying attention about five minutes ago. If he got involved, even just by listening, well, he would be a wreck for the rest of the night. It was like he was eleven again. He was invisibly, luckily, to his parents because they were too focused on Ruth. However, he wasn’t eleven anymore. Unluckily, he was no an aware adult and couldn’t ignore the conversation anymore when a certain person came up.

  
“I don’t care what you believe is right. It’s sin, plain and simple. There is no place for indecent subjects like this in politics, or have you forgotten every one of Pastor Murphy’s sermons?”

  
Nick jolted at that name and nearly dropped his fork, but he recovered quickly. At least, no one seemed to notice his slip up. Ruth was laughing bitterly.

  
“That, backwards, old pervert, teaching hate and discrimination?” She leaned across the table and took a deep breath, “Religion is supposed to be about love, even if people are different from you! No, especially if people are different from you! It’s not a choice, some people just love who they love!”

  
Nick stayed staring at his plate, but his self-destructive side listened intently to the response.

  
“Bull! San Francisco has addled your brains with all that rainbow shit. Anyone who consciously makes the decision to live their life in sin, committing acts of sexual impurity, not to imagine how unnatural and-”

  
“Dad!” Ruth suddenly shouted. Nick had stopped breathing. Hopefully nothing in his face exposed him. He wished more than anything that he could shove some of the potatoes in his ears, block out the noise and run away. Run anywhere. Ruth continued.

  
“You say these things but you may never know who’s struggling with the hate you so easily vomit!”

  
“Like who?” Their father laughed. Nick kept still. He knew that if he looked up, Ruth would try to catch his eye. Somehow, she knew, she had figured it out. Not that there was anything to figure out… except, maybe there was. Ruth didn’t say anything in response. Their father laughed again.

  
“I thought so. As if I would ever have contact with anyone like that,” he spat. Their father took the rest of dinner as an opportunity to continue his tirade. He spewed the most vulgar insults, and had the most vivid ideas for what should be done to people who identified as...that. He couldn’t even say the word. All Nick could do was sit there and try not to throw up. He excused himself before pie (“I just need to use the bathroom real quick”). He ran to the nearest bathroom and leaned over the toilet. Just in time. All throughout dinner and with each word his dad spoke, he could feel the worst kind of burning rise up. His throat burned from the bile and resurfaced gravy. He more gagged and sobbed, no doubt in his mind that he was going to miss all of dessert. There was no problem with that in his mind.

  
After a while, he was able to lean back from the toilet. He flushed and put his head between his knees, sobbing softly to the cool tile. Once again, the dream of a few nights ago resurfaced in shame. He almost threw up again at the thought of it. No, not at the thought of the dream. More at the thought of what would happen to him if anyone ever found out. For fuck’s sake, it was 2018! Not 1920. He shouldn’t be hiding in a bathroom having a panic attack over this. It wasn’t like he would be killed for being this way. He hiccuped and curled tighter into himself. No, his father would kill him. There was no doubt about it. Especially after that speech at dinner. There was no question in his father’s feelings on the subject. Another sob broke out of him. He wasn’t safe here. He had never been safe here. When was his flight again? 9 am? He couldn’t wait that long. He had to leave now. It was still early, maybe there was a possibility he could get a flight out tonight. He pushed himself shakily to his feet and stumbled out the bathroom. He didn’t make it one step before bumping into Ruth. She was sitting against the wall opposite the door.

  
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she rushed to her feet.

  
“Fine,” he croaked out, his throat still burning from the sick and sobbing, “Bad piece of turkey,” he lied.

  
“No it wasn’t,” she whispered, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook her off.

  
“What else could it be?” he gulped angrily. “Besides, what would you know? You’ve been gone for seven years. You don’t know anything,” he hissed. Ruth backed off, blinking in surprise. No matter how many times she had fought with their parents, she had never looked hurt. But, here in the hall, here face screwed up like a kicked dog. And of all people, it was Nick who had made that face.

  
“I called,” she whispered.

  
“Oh yes, you called,” Nick muttered, “How could I ever forget the ass load of good that did me,” he brushed past her, feeling that familiar urge to throw up rising again with the expression on her face. He pushed it down and into is room. Nick made a beeline for his phone and immediately started looking up airlines, caught in a physical and emotional turmoil. Ruth’s face, his father's words, and the cold bathroom tile kept swirling through his mind. He was going to lose it. No, he had to get out of here. Then he could lose it.

* * *

 

“So,” Jay hummed as they stalked the harsh fluorescent lit aisle of the CVS store for pringles and microwave dinners, “How was vacation?” He asked the question casually, knowing it was a sensitive subject. After all, Nick didn’t put out the greatest vibe about his family and he hadn’t said anything about his time with them. 

Nick shrugged and grabbed the sour cream and onion flavor. “It was alright,” he brushed off. Jay hummed to himself again. 

“So,” he started again and Nick couldn’t help but roll his eyes to himself, fighting down the smile Jay elicited, “I heard your sister showed up.”

”Only because I texted you,” Nick grabbed a box of instant mac and cheese. 

Another hum. “So.” Nick snorted. 

“How did it really go,” the casual air was out of his voice this time. His voice was low, and careful, his breath ghosting just past Nick’s ear. While his body remained very aware of how close Jay was to him, Nick tried to focus on whatever cheap, knock off food product was in front of him now. He had to swallow several times before answering. 

“Umm, it went...as well as expected.” He jumped when Jay practically growled in his ear. 

“Was it your dad? Did he do something to you?” 

Nick whirled around and cams nose to nose with Jay. Did he always look so pretty when he was angry? Nick tried not to squeak. 

“What? No! What gave you that idea?” He rushed, which defeated the whole purpose of lying. Jay, still almost touching noses, scanned his face. Something he saw in Nick must’ve convinced him not to push it further. That didn’t stop him from declaring, “I don’t like that man.” 

Nick sighed and passed the pringles and several boxes of mac and cheese to Jay and turned back around quickly. He couldn’t control his thoughts with Jay so close to him, glaring and  _growling._ It shouldn’t turn him on, but some small part of him was. That dream had really fucked things up between them again. Only this time, it was fucked up in a very different sense of the word. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your sister,” Jay said after a while longer. 

Here was something, or someone Nick could talk about. Also something to distract his mind from less family friendly thoughts. “I adore her,” he began excitedly, “She’s like the type of badass you see on TV. Typical teenage rebel. She’s the only one I’ve ever seen stand up to our father. She was also the only one that ever really cared about me before...” Nick trailed off. Ruth’s face on the night he left swam into his memory, reopening a barely healed scar. Nothing ever got to her, except for him. Not even anything his father had ever called her had done that to her. Brat. Sinner. Slut. But Nick had. Nick had broken her. He only noticed he was crying after a heavy, hot tear rolled down his cheek. Jay nearly dropped their stash when he saw Nick was crying. 

“Old Sport?”

Nick sniffles and laughed at himself, trying to force the tears back down. “No it’s fine. It’s just...I had a little fight with her right before I left, if you can call it a fight. I said some things...I wish I hadn’t,” he muttered, embarrassed as the tears kept flowing. Jay wriggled our a free hand and placed it on Nick’s back. 

“Is that why you came home early?” 

“Part of it,” Nick shrugged. He took some of the cargo from Jay. “I don’t- I’m not- I don’t really want to talk about it yet. It’s still pretty fresh,” his eyes prickled a little again. God, what would his father say about him now, standing in the middle of a CVS aisle, crying over a can of pringles while his roommate rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder? He still probably wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

“Come on,” he took a deep, steadying breath, “Tom Turkey needs his party.”

“Good point!” Jay agreed, happy once again. Well, if Nick was happy, then he could be happy too. He charged on towards the checkoutline, grabbing a strand of cheap Christmas lights on the way. Nick followed languidly. 

_”You’re in looove,” she squished his cheeks lovingly. Nick jerked back and sat up._

_“No way! You don’t understand. Jay is just...he’s just a great guy. And he’s my roommate!”_

_”You’re in looove!”_

Jay bounced on the balls of his feet just infront of Nick. He turned over his shoulder and gave him a goofy grin, tongue lolling out to the side. Nick couldn’t help the strangled laugh that broke through his lips, deepening his blush. 

Well, maybe Ruth understood more than Nick initially thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila. Sad Nick, making a comeback. But he’s got his Jay with him, so it’s not all bad.  
> Also, for any non-American readers, CVS stands for Convience, Value and Service and it’s these random stores where reality is a little altered, and they have everything from a pharmacy, to Halloween decorations, to a freezer aisle. 
> 
> Question: If you guys write, what kind of music do you guys like to listen to to get you in a writing groove?


	14. Rudolph and the Psyche pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I split this chapter into two parts, so if it feels like it ended awkwardly, that’s because it’s not quite ended. This is definitely the more light-hearted part.

Though humble, it was a beautiful ceremony. Jay lit some tea light candles that he had picked up from Ikea some time or other. Nick said a few words in honor of Tom Turkey’s service during the month of November. Jay played Space Oddity because he insisted that it fit the mood. (“Major Tom? Tom Turkey? Come on, there’s a connection there.”) Finally, after standing at attention for five minutes and five seconds, they finally took Tom off the wall, which was easy enough since he was only hanging on by a single, old piece of tape.

  
With turkeys officially off every menu, and the leaves of every tree jumping ship, there was nothing left to hold back the tidal wave of Christmas. Even though he was constantly bitching about the cold (even more so than he had been), Nick had never seen anyone more excited for the holiday season than Jay. Starting December 1st, he changed his alarm to “All I Want for Christmas is You”. In a weird turn of events, it was Jay who started to wear the “ugly” sweaters, which really just turned into a contest of who could find the most awful sweater. Nick had only ever seen this level of pre-holiday enthusiasm in cartoons, and there wasn’t a firm way he could tell if this was normal behavior or just Jay being extra. Knowing Jay, he was probably just being extra. He had orchestrated a farewell ceremony for a paper turkey after all.

  
Nick was in a vastly different mood. While Jay was looking forward to the holiday, Nick was solely focused on the impending finals. All semester long he had been suffering through his economics class. Still, he only had a vague idea on how to graph the different market structures. It wasn’t as if he didn’t study: he studied like a dog. But what good was studying if he had no passion to motivate him to retain all those facts? He constantly went back and forth between wanting to focus on his worst subject and carrying on with those he knew he could succeed in. It was a mess. Whenever he was in the newsroom or reading for Owl-Eyes class, he felt too guilty to focus. Whenever he studied economics, he felt too down to focus. There was no winning. Which left only one logical solution: trying to make origami reindeer with Jay late Monday night instead of subjecting himself to textbook hell.

  
“How in the hell are you doing this?” Nick dropped what was little more than a crumpled square next to Jay’s mini fleet.

  
Jay shrugged and finished his last reindeer. “I had better teacher than myself,” he said bashfully, smoothing out Nick’s crumpled piece of paper for him. “Here. We’ll work it out together.”

  
He dragged his chair over to Nick’s side of the table to better oversee each and every fold. Jay was more patient than Nick as well, who was very close to strangling his tiny paper creation. He tried not to feel shame over the fact that in the time it took him to complete one reindeer, Jay could’ve created five. A blush stayed heavy on his cheeks all the while due to his embarrassment, and he couldn’t help but feel babied. Well, maybe a little part of the blush was due to the fact that Jay’s arm was so casually draped over the back of his chair as he leaned subconsciously into Nick’s space. Occasionally, he would readjust Nick’s hands, guiding his fingers along with gentle nudges. This only led to Nick messing up more. His hands were surprisingly warm.

  
“Then fold up right here and that becomes the leg,” the words grazed past Nick’s cheek, setting his skin on fire. Nick sloppily made the fold, trying to focus on the leg rather than Jay’s gentle hum of affirmation.

  
“You did it!” Jay clapped suddenly. He grasped Nick’s shoulders and shook them in pride. Nick let himself be jostled, the sad excuse for origami in his hand. Only a few months ago this lopsided, dopey little piece of paper would’ve been a failure to Nick: another example of him trying and crashing. But how could this be a failure when Jay was going on and on about it? He just stopped short of parading it around the room. Jay took the reindeer from his hands and placed it proudly in the center of the coffee table, even if it couldn’t stand on its own.

  
Nick warmed as he looked at the defeated reindeer. It wasn’t defeated at all. It was just taking a nap. He had actually tried something. By no means was he a pro, but he had tried, and wasn’t that a success in itself? As ridiculous as it seemed, maybe the reindeer was a good omen. Maybe finals wouldn’t go perfectly, but he was going to do them anyways. Passing by that reindeer for the rest of the day, Nick would sleep easy with the idea that for once in his life, not everything would have to be perfect.

* * *

 

  
Jay wasn’t quite so worried with finals as Nick was. He rarely opened a textbook and instead spent his time trying to “help” Nick with his studies. And what with Nick’s...changed attitude toward Jay and his own lack of interest in school as a whole, the two didn’t get much done.

  
Jay placed another m&m on Nick’s psych book, covering the words he was trying to read. Nick brushed this one aside too. He never ate them. M&m’s are disgusting and he would never do that to himself. A few minutes later, and Nick was face to face with another chocolate dot. He sighed and finally looked up at Jay. The two were situated on Nick’s bed surrounded by study guides and various other course work. Jay was very alluringly draped across the foot of his bed (can someone be alluring when their cheeks are stuffed with Christmas m&m’s?).

  
“Are you done?” Jay perked up, asking through a mouthful of chocolate.

  
“No,” Nick huffed, aiming the candy at Jay’s head but missing by a good foot, “Someone keeps bugging me which means it takes a longer time to read.” Jay popped another m&m innocently into his mouth.

  
“What class is this for again?” He sighed, falling onto his stomach and Nick’s papers.

  
“Psych,” Nick answered after awhile. Jay shifted again and crawled up to sit behind Nick on his pillow. Nick got approximately zero reading done with Jay looking over his shoulder. After a while, Jay humphed and fell back against the wall.

  
“Trauma. Sounds cheery.”

  
Nick didn’t bother responding. He was so close to the end of this chapter. He jumped when he felt Jay’s fingers gently rest on his right shoulder.

  
“What’re you doing?” He jerked back to look at a rather startled Jay.

  
“M&m tower,” he simply shrugged. Jay was kicked off Nick’s bed after that, but only after the promise that Nick would do something fun with Jay after one more hour of study. A fat loaf of good that did Nick. Jay spent that hour walking in and out of the closet and trying to go through Nick’s dresser. To say the least, most of that hour was spent shooing Jay away from his things more than reviewing the effects of trauma.

  
“It’s time! Hour’s over! Book away!” Jay danced, waving his phone in the air when the time came. Nick bit his lip and shook his head.

  
“But, my test is tomorrow. You have tests tomorrow. We should just-”

  
“Nope!” Jay cleared away some paper before plopping himself down on Nick’s bed, “You promised. Are you telling me, that you, Nick Carraway, make empty promises?” He stuck out his lower lip in a pout. Nick sighed and tossed his book to the side.

  
“Fine. What did you have in mind?”

  
Jay’s lip sucked back into a smile. “Oh you’ll see. Come on, grab your coat, we’re going out.” He didn’t wait for Nick to grab his coat. He didn’t even wait for him to get off the bed before throwing said coat at his face.

  
The world outside their apartment had changed. It seemed Nick was the only person who hadn’t thought about what life would be alike after finals. Everyone else was making plans for the holidays and enjoying the decorations that had been put up all over the campus. Nick was glad for his coat as snow started to softly drift down. Even in late afternoon, the sky was already getting dark quickly. Little flurries of flakes danced around dressed up lamp posts. Though it had been seven years since he had seen one, it felt like the two of them had been sucked into a hallmark movie. Their breath puffed out in front of them and Nick had to resist to urge to needlessly blow out his breath like a dragon.

  
Jay never mentioned where they were headed: he only linked their arms together and ambled leisurely down the powdered sidewalk. Against his better judgement, Nick let himself be led off campus and into the city. The struggle to not think about finals slowly dissipated at the sight of the city at Christmas time. Sure, nothing was excessively grand. Little details like lights strung through the trees or garlands over tiny shop windows elevated the entire winter feeling. Nick was not accustomed to such tacky simplicity, but rather to silvers and golds in a cold hall, with an imposing evergreen giant in the corner. This snowy city street was more Christmas than his childhood had ever been. He couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, snuggling comfortably into Jay’s side. There were no worries here tonight.

  
Finally, Jay turned them into a corner shop a little more bougie than the rest. It was a tailors and not a cheap one at that. Jay greeted the man at the front desk in rolling Italian, arms opening wide and welcoming. The man perked up at the sound of Jay’s voice, his droopy mustache parting to reveal a genuine smile that looked odd on his pinched face. He accepted Jay’s embrace, if somewhat stiffly, and patted him on the back.

  
“It’s been too long, Mr. Gatsby, since we’ve been seeing you,” the man appraised Jay from down his long nose. Nick stayed hovering near the door and shrank back even more when the man’s eyes turned to him. Where there had been warmth for Jay, there was none for Nick. Not surprising. He looked very out of place with his lumpy reindeer sweater, red-rimmed eyes and unkempt hair. Certainly not worthy to be standing in a place like this, of the moment. Jay followed the man’s gaze and brought Nick forward.

  
“Ricci, May I introduce my good friend Mr. Carraway?” He smiled gaily and gently squeezed Nick’s shoulder. Nick managed a pathetic smile under the circumstances. Ricci nodded and smiled, more forced than before.

  
“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet any friend of yours, Gatsby. I’m sure that anyone you deem to keep company with is good enough for us.” Nick didn’t believe him. “I’ll just go and get Signor Moretti. He’ll be glad to see you.” Ricci left quietly into a back room and Jay relaxed his arm around Nick’s shoulders.

  
Nick turned to face Jay, a difficult task seeing as Jay and pulled him nearly underneath his chin. He intended to interrogate Jay on why he had brought him here of all places on their break. He had expected something a little more...seasonal. Like watching ice skaters. Or hot chocolate. All of those were preferable to Ricci and his mustache. But he never got the chance. Ricci returned from the back room, another man in tow. This man was larger, more jolly than Ricci too. He crushed Jay, Nick along with him, in a friendly hug.

  
“Mr. Gatsby,” he grinned, “You’re turning out to be quite the man! Dan tells me you’re doing well?” Jay’s face changed for a millisecond. It was that flickering of hope in his eyes, his smile becoming too stretched for a moment but never reaching his eyes. Only this time, Nick knew for sure that it wasn’t his imagination. Something Moretti had said had a certain effect on Jay. He could feel it through his arm and they Way it clenched suddenly against Nick, and not in an affectionate way. Moretti didn’t notice and had continued on to Nick himself.

  
“Mr. Carraway, I’m told you’re a friend of Gatsby’s!” His eyes flickered over him, hardening once he saw what he was wearing, “What brings you in this evening, Mr. Carraway?” A rather sly smile infecting his jovial face. Nick felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He had no idea what brought him in aside from Jay. Why they were standing in a high end Italian tailor shop, he hadn’t the faintest. Luckily, Jay cut in.

  
“We were hoping for a suit today. Something new, spiffy. My poor friend hasn’t had the time to pick one up between galas!” Jay winked, his usual demeanor making a comeback. Moretti looked doubtful that Nick had ever attended any sort of event ever in his life. Still, he led the two of them to the back room.

  
“Well, we’ll take down your friend’s measurements and turn out one of our nicest for him!” Moretti places Nick on the round pedestal before looking for a tape measure. Nick, trapped between a three way mirror and a spotlight looked helplessly towards Jay. Why on earth would he do this to him? Where was his hot chocolate, dammit? Jay just mouthed the words “trust me” with a subtle nod before Moretti came back into the picture. Nick shook his head violently and flared and Jay, which only earned him a smug smile in return.

  
“Any ideas for colors?” Moretti asked Jay, completely ignoring the fact that the suit was for Nick.

  
“I think a midnight would be nice. Velvet lapels, to be sure,” Jay placed his chin thoughtfully between his fingers, also looking Nick up and down like a painting on display. He squirmed, his blush making him dance. Moretti swatted gently at him. “Stay still please, sir,” he said gruffly, lifting Nick’s arm. Oh, he didn’t like this at all: Moretti moving him around like a marionette, tsking angrily whenever Nick so much as to take a deep breath. However, Nick found that every breath he took was deep. Jay watched the whole time, and Nick couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with him.

  
He was furious that this was what he was wasting his time on. Furious that Jay had brought him here to be poked and prodded. All the same, he was nervous and all too aware of Jay just watching. Not wandering around the room, not waiting outside. Just watching. There was nothing intimate about it, not with Moretti roughly moving him around. Still, Nick felt that he might as well be bare assed all the same, with the lights shining down on him. There was no cause for shame, no need for embarrassment but Nick’s face was a deep red, he was sure. Red from anger. Red from exposure. Red from Jay, just watching.

  
The ordeal could not have ended soon enough. He practically leaped off the stand when Moretti gave the say so and rushed past Jay to the front room. Again, he waited by the door while Jay took care of business. He tried to be angry at the sound of his laughter, but it was impossible. Instead it warmed him to the bone, the tones running down his spine. The fact that he couldn’t be angry with Jay made him all the angrier. When Jay finally joined him by the door, he walked out first, ignoring Jay’s arm when he offered it. He plowed on ahead into the snow, trying (and failing) to leave Jay a little ways behind. Jay’s with those damn long, beautiful legs, caught up to him quickly enough.

  
“Did I do something wrong?” He sounded so sincere, Nick couldn’t help but laugh. Part of him wanted to brood, let Jay simmer for a little bit. Maybe allow some guilt to build up at Nick’s sullen attitude, but he was too mentally exhausted with it all to put up a charade like that.

  
“That was humiliating,” he scoffed, still marching without so much as looking at Jay. His resolve would all but melt if he saw Jay’s face and those god damn puppy eyes, “I felt...like I was on display or something. You weren’t helping. You two talked about me like I wasn’t even in the room!”

  
Jay grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him. Contrary to Nick’s expectation, there were no puppy eyes. He was sorrowful, but his face wasn’t seeking forgiveness. “I’m sorry,” he uttered softly, “I didn’t know it would upset you.”

  
“You didn’t know that talking about me in front of me while some stranger pushed and pulled at me wouldn’t upset me?”

  
“Well, when you put it like that, yeah I can see how that would upset you,” he had to pull Nick back to him after that statement, “it would upset me too. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just...I don’t know. I enjoy getting nice clothes and shit and I shouldn’t have assumed the same on you.”

  
Nick shifted his weight from foot to foot. Jay was more of a fool than he first thought. Yes, a lovable, adorable, irresistible fool. And while Nick was still upset, he was comparatively less so with Jay’s hand still desperately on his arm. “I..I forgive you,” he sighed, “just, if you want to get me a suit again, let me know in advance so that I’m not wearing camouflage crocs next time.” Jay laughed in relief and pulled him into his side.

  
“Sorry I fucked up,” He hummed into his hair, and sighed deeply. Nick shuddered, chills from something other than the actual cold running down his arms and legs. He might actual collapse right here on the sidewalk if he hadn't known that that would only send him further into Jay’s arm. God, how could he be so weak?

  
“So, is it ok if we go to a few more places? No more tailors! On my word,” he added quickly, his face still enveloped in Nick’s hair. Nick closed his eyes and nodded, pulling away from Jay. No matter how much he craved Jay’s touch, in every sense of the word, it was all a little too intimate for the street.

  
Jay dragged him to a few more high end places and all but bought him a whole new wardrobe. Nick crossed the line after four sweaters and two pants, Jay grumpily putting down the pile of possibilities he had amassed for Nick to try on.

  
“Why are you doing this?” Nick hissed as the cashier at the final place rang them up.

  
Jay turned to Nick and bit his lower lip. “Ok, don’t be mad,” he began, not bothering to lower his voice, “ but all your sweaters are fucking hideous. Don’t get me wrong, I love Rudolph,” Jay gestured to the light up nose twinkling on Nick’s sweater, “but come on.”

  
“I have half a mind to slap you right now, but that’s not within the holiday spirit,” Nick grumbled, hugging his arms tight around his precious sweater. A rather tight-lipped cashier handed them their bags, trying her best to keep a professional air. “Have a nice day you two,” she clipped, a smile breaking through, “and for the record, I’ve always liked Rudolph sweaters.”

  
“Just not with camo crocs,” Jay countered, swishing out of the store, offended that not one, but two people had ganged up on his superior fashion sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this one took so long. That was not the intention. I had planned to have it up in a few days but then a lot of stuff happened. I ended up going to a hospital, and I’m still in some pretty bad pain, but you guys don’t need to know all that. Since this chapter was split, I’ll have the next one out either tomorrow or the day after that, so that it’s still fresh in everyone’s mind. 
> 
> This is going to be the one time I’ll asked to be spoiled. It’s my birthday tomorrow so please leave a comment! I just love to hear feedback from all of you lovely people.


	15. Rudolph and Psyche Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger: there are mentions of causes of trauma such as abuse and rape. There’s nothing explicit, it just mentions them and I want everybody to be safe

For compensation of all the shopping and the dreadful tailor experience, Jay allowed himself to be coerced into buying Nick a hot chocolate. It was only fair. After all, that was about as much as he had been expecting out of this trip. He happily sipped away while Jay spoke animatedly about all the new pieces they had purchased. He only half listened, not really caring about the subject but when Jay went off on something, the best thing to do was settle back and enjoy the show. Jay could even make a cashmere sweater exciting. Not so much with his words, but the sound of his voice and the constant rise and fall between words. His tone so easily drew Nick in, his eyes lingering much too often on Jay’s lips. If not his lips, than his eyebrows, which changed expression a mile a minute. How could one man hold so much optimism within himself? For fuck’s sake, they were talking about _sweaters_ , but if Jay had a mute button, one might’ve guessed he was talking about his magical Disneyland memory.

It was only after stepping back into the apartment did Nick remember his psych studies, breaking through and shattering that pre-Christmas he and Jay had just built up for the past three hours. He all but dropped the bags he was carrying and rushed back to their bedroom.

  
“Fuck,” he breathed, leading through the pages of his textbook. He blinked furiously, fighting through the friendly fatigue of the hot chocolate. “Fuck fuck fuck.” His eyes refused to focus on the words, his eyelids becoming heavy each time he tried to read. This was a familiar phenomenon to him. Try to study, fall right asleep. Do anything else besides study, become the energizer bunny. He shouldn’t have let Jay keep him out for this long. Sitting on his bed didn’t help his drowsiness.

  
Jay moseyed into the room, placing the sweaters neatly in the closet before turning to Nick’s bed where Nick was fighting every second to keep his eyes open.

  
“You ok?”

  
“Man, what the _hell_ was in that hot chocolate?”

  
Jay laughed and scooted onto Nick’s bed, gently shoving over his smaller roommate to make space next to him.

  
“Well, I’m wide awake. Want me to read to you?” Jay laughed, only half joking. Nick pushed the text book into his lap with little more than a tired grumble.

  
“Start where it says ‘we all react’,” before laying his head against Jay’s shoulder. Maybe physical contact with Jay would alive his senses. God knows it has in the past. Not this time however. Jay’s was warm despite being out in the cold with Nick, and his voice vibrated throughout his body as he began to read from the textbook. He had intended to read over Jay’s shoulder, but couldn’t fight the weight on his eyelids when Jay’s gentle rumble began to describe coping mechanisms. An odd lullaby, but a damn effective one.

  
“We all react in different ways to trauma. People experience a wide range of physical and emotional reactions,” Jay began clearly.

  
“Emotional symptoms include, but are not limited to: shock, disassociation, confusion, anxiety, guilt, self-blame, withdrawing from others, mood swings, unpredictability, and irritability,” Jay paused here for a moment before continuing on, his voice dropping a few decibels.

  
“Physical symptoms may include startling easily, muscle tension, aches and pains, difficulty concentrating, fatigue, insomnia and nightmares.”

  
After only a few minutes of reading, Jay looked down at his shoulder. Nick’s lips were slightly parted, dreams fluttering beneath his eyelids. Jay wiggled his shoulder a bit. No response. He smirked to himself and set the book to the side. Nick would do fine on his exam: he was sure of it. His poor friend worked himself too hard, he considered as he gently slid Nick off his shoulder and onto his pillow. Jay couldn’t help the smile that broke through when Nick snuggled his face into his pillow with a sigh. Jay was always smiling, but with Nick, it wasn’t stressed or fake. Even just his pouty, sleeping lips were enough. It was a natural, can’t-help-it kind of happy whenever he was with Nick. He had only ever had one other friend who could make him feel that way before. But there was something different this time. Maybe it was because Nick was his actual age instead of Dan.

  
He brushed away some hair away from Nick’s face, petting his forehead. Nick frowned in his sleep and buried his face into his pillow. Jay’s hand wavered, as he remembered something from earlier. Something Nick’s book said was...a little familiar. Jay went over to his own bed, but neglected his own studying...again. He wasn’t too worried about passing any of his classes. He knew he was home free regardless of how he did on the test (Headmaster Wolfsheim had as good as promised him that). Instead, he flipped open his laptop and typed out a question that had been on his mind for the longest time now. How can you tell if someone has trauma? He perused through several websites, both trustworthy and not, but couldn’t really find anything that the book hadn’t already told him.

  
“Trauma can be caused by an overwhelming negative event-” Jay already knew that “-that causes a lasting impact on the victim’s emotional and mental stability. While many sources of trauma are physically violent, others are psychological,” Jay knew this too. And he would probably already know all of what was going to be on the list this website provided, “Rape. Domestic Violence. Severe illness or injury. Death of a loved one. Neglect.” Yep. Jay already knew it all. He had spent the last hour rereading the same things over and over. But nothing told him how to differentiate between causes, or how he could help Nick without hurting him. He had already mentioned Nick’s obvious anxiety once only for Nick to flip his shit in denial. But while reading Nick his damn textbook, he realized it wasn’t anxiety. Anxiety was just a side effect of something bigger than the both of them. He just wished he knew what that something bigger was. Jay stared at the depressing list of events, trying to see if any of them matched up with Nick.

  
Rape? Oh god he hoped not. Severe illness or injury? Cold be a possibility, but it didn’t seem like Nick had ever gone through anything like that. Yes he was skinny as a twig, and his diet was typical of college freshman boy, but he was healthy by all accounts. Domestic Violence? Jay stopped at this one. The hand rubbing his neck slowed. Now this one...this one seemed more likely.

  
When was it? The first week of college? He was pretty sure it was that weekend. That was the weekend with the hall party, where Nick had run off, gotten drunk and begged Jay not to leave him. Now, Jay had been around his fair share of emotional drunks, but this had been vastly different. Nick obviously wasn’t used to drinking and people don’t just decide to go get wasted on a whim in Jay’s experience. When Nick grabbed his arm, his eyes so wide it was almost comical and whispered a simple “Please, stay. Just, right here, please”, Jay knew hurt when he saw it. But then like most things in his life, Jay had a little extra help coming to his conclusion.

  
He had left to the party a little after Nick, who had brushed out without so much as a “Hey Jay! How are you? How was your day? Are you excited for the party?” While Jay had been getting ready, and trying not to let Nick’s dismissive behavior get to him, he noticed a little ball of paper next to the trash. He was just going to toss it in the bin like any other piece of trash he would’ve come across but curiosity got the better of him. It wasn’t his balled up piece of paper, and even just a week of living with Nick taught him that he was a bit of a hoarder, especially when it came to paper. He had read the letter, had seen the distasteful undertones, saw a teardrop smudging the writing at the bottom of the page. That was the first Jay knew of Mr. Carraway.

  
Of course he never told Nick what he found out. Jay would be mortified if anyone was to find out about his own parents. He couldn’t place that kind of pain on Nick. So he had helped anyway he could over the last few months. At first, it was more of a charity project. Help a friend feel better, help yourself feel better. But then the most unexpected thing happened. Jay actually started to care, actually started to worry. This was more than just building good relations with his roommate, more than helping a wounded animal.

  
This was Nick, human being and the only person Jay felt close to on the whole damn campus. This was Nick Carraway, who cared just as much about Jay as Jay was growing to care for him. Thanksgiving had been the worst. Jay knew where Nick was, who he was with and he hated it. But most of all he hated that he couldn’t be there with him. Hopefully their time in the soup kitchen had charged him with enough good energy to face Mr. McJudgeYou. All hopes of Nick having a good time were dashed that day in the CVS: the way he panicked when he brought up his dad, or when he started to cry and brush things aside. Something had awakened in Jay in the checkout line. Nick was his to protect, and to coddle. If he wanted to cry on his shoulder, Jay would willingly lend it. If he wanted the truth...Jay would tell him everything. But for now, Jay wanted to kick Mr. Carraway’s ass.

  
Jay narrowed his searches to domestic abuse and the last few months began to make more sense. Mind, not total sense, but more sense. The minutes ticked away, and the light from his screen became more glaring against his dry eyes. He nodded off half way through a narrative article, his sleep fretful and disturbed by Nick’s wide eyes in the dark and a “Please...stay. Just, right here, please,” piercing his ears.

* * *

 

Nick wasn’t sure exactly when he fell asleep. But as Jay read on his voice became more and more quiet, sometimes he would pause, even mid word and when he would continue, he would be quieter than before. He might’ve fallen asleep the first page, or the fifth. What did it matter? He was out soon enough. His mind switched back and forth in a hellscape of a dream. One half would be Jay, laughing in the snow, a nearby streetlight creating a halo around his head and Nick’s heart beat would quicken, his throat tighten but he was happier than he had ever been. Jay would turn to look at him as if he was his entire world, bring him tight against him, caress his face. All the while it would just be the two of them in the snow, warm against all odds and the only people in the world. 

  
But then in the next moment, he would be trapped in a forever growing pile of papers. Some of them assignments, some essays, some pages from the textbook. The edges would cut his skin and everything flew by too fast for him to read. But the pile grew ever bigger, swallowing him whole, every inch of his skin sliced by the papers while his professors looked down on him, not one bothering help pull him out as papers covered his mouth, his nostrils, until his eyes were also slit.

  
The worst, however, wasn’t the ceaseless cuts or the way his heart might burst out of his chest at the sound of Jay’s laugh. No, the worst was when he was back in that room. That godless room. And even though he couldn’t see him, he knew that _he_ was there. That _he_ was coming. Those were the worst moments. Those were the moments where he thought he might scream, where his heart was going to simply seize, where he wanted to scream but all his air had been snatched from him. The stands and the drums and the shelves of music were nothing but mocking spectators to his agony. Perhaps if he opened his mouth wider, maybe if he cried, maybe if he could put a little more gusto behind it all, maybe he could make a noise. So he opened his mouth wider but still no sound. The doorknob started to turn slowly, and still no sound. He tried the thrash against paralysis but still the doorknob turned and Nick was there: motionless, silent.

  
“Nick! Nick!” Hands were grasped firmly on his shoulders and this time his heart really did stop. Though he knew it would be worthless he tried to beat against the hands, and the body they belonged to. He opened his mouth for another silent scream.

  
“No!” He could move. He could scream. His fists came into contact with a firm body above him and he didn’t stop. “No!” He screamed again, relishing in the delight of having a voice. The hands shook him harder, hard enough to open his eyes.

  
The room was dark except for the lamp on Jay’s bedside table across the room. Even though he was backlit, Nick could still see the panic on Jay’s face. His hands were gently on his shoulders, holding him softly up. Nick unballed his fists and pulled them away from Jay’s most likely beaten chest.

  
“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I woke you up and the. I-”

  
“Shush,” Jay whispered, moving one hand to push hair back from Nick’s sweaty forehead, “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  
“But, I do,” Nick pushed on, pulling away from Jay even if all he wanted to do was fall forward onto his shoulder and sob.

“What time is it?”

  
“Doesn’t matter.”

  
“Jay, I’m so sorry,” his face plummeted into his hands. God, what a nuisance he was. Such a pity that someone as divine as Jay had to be stuck with a wretch like him. Nick was pulled closer to the edge of the bed, Jay folding him into his chest.

  
“It’s alright,” his voice hummed into Nick’s ear. He shivered from the slow up and down movements of Jay’s hands against his back. He let himself relax into Jay, still quivering from the thought of the being so utterly helpless. A choked sob broke through his chest: utter helplessness was his reality. He was slave to the forces in his life: he had no say in what would happen to him. Nick began to shake a little harder, Jay’s arms growing tighter around him as if anyone could melt this internal chill.

  
Jay’s hands were everywhere at once: in his hair, rubbing his back. All the while he hummed softly to him, not even speaking words. Nick hiccuped into his chest, his trembling going from violent to a stutter, back and forth until Jay was able to lull him into sleep once again. He only closed his eyes after Jay breathed into his hair, “Don't worry. I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here.” And Jay kept his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See! I told you all I was going to get it out in a day or two! I’ve been r e a l l y excited for the next couple of chapters too and I’ve been planning them from the beginning, so hopefully I’ll dtart updating quicker since there’s less chance of writers block. I hope you guys enjoyed seeing things a little more from Jay’s perspective!


	16. A world with John Mulaney

The thing about finals is that they go by ridiculously quick. Hours of relentless studying and stress for a measly week of testing. Finals week was the epitome of an anti-climax in Nick’s opinion. All that build up and for what? For it to go by in a complete blur of shuffling papers, cold rooms and ramen? Last Nick was conscious of was sitting down to take his Psych final, and in the next moment, Ms. Paulson was wishing them all Happy Holidays. It didn’t quite hit Nick that he was free from all things academic until the sea of brain dead freshmen had pushed him outside into the blistering cold. Over, it was really over. No more textbooks or midnight fever reviews.

  
A little flurry of snow rushed around his ankles before blowing off, taking with it the strain of the semester. Without final grades clouding his vision, Nick could actually appreciate the decorations around campus. Well, as much as he could as he rushed to the dorms, scarf covering half his frozen face. Though he had humored Jay the last couple days by wearing one of the designer sweaters he had gotten him, nothing could keep him from wearing his Ravenclaw scarf. Scarf or no, his head was still assaulted by the slight snowfall. He bat the white powder from his coat and from his hair as he fumbled into his dorm.

  
Jay was somehow already home and comfortably situated in front of the Dr Seuss’s The Grinch with a mug (more like a bowl) of hot chocolate and Nick’s “unfit” Rudolph sweater. Nick huffed at the betrayal. Not Jay’s, but his sweater’s. How dare that sweater look better on Jay than it ever had on him. And how dare Jay steal his sweater in the first place. The guilty party tore his eyes from the screen to make a few tense seconds of eye contact with Nick.

  
“I had nothing seasonal to wear,” he innocently sipped at his hot chocolate. Nick threw his scarf at him. He didn’t really care if Jay wore his clothes. God knows he wouldn’t stretch any of his sweaters out; they were ginormous on anyone. The only problem was that it would smell irrevocably, and tantalizingly of Jay forevermore.

Nick kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his coat before crashing down next to Jay. The Grinch was one of the few holiday movies his archaic parents had actually approved of in their house. Ironic. All the slithering and stealing however was interrupted by Jay, who twisted to face Nick full on, tucking his legs underneath him.

  
“So. Did you survive?”

  
Nick groaned and felt himself sink boneless against the couch, “Man, I don’t even know. Do I have a pulse?”

  
Jay snatched his wrist and definitely checked in the wrong place for a pulse, “By the almighty, he lives and breathes!” Nick pulled his wrist away in what he hoped was a casual manner, even though Jay’s fingers against his skin burned. He rubbed at the offended wrist, either rubbing the sensation of Jay’s touch away or memorizing the gentle grasp. He wasn’t sure yet.

  
“Nuh-uh,” Nick scoffed playfully, keeping his face in check, “Be honest, you don’t know where to find the pulse.”

  
“Irrelevant!” Jay announced, turning his attention back to their green friend for all of five seconds before turning back on Nick. “What are your plans, now that the semester’s over?”

  
Nick chewed at the inside of his cheek. With all his time and energy focused on academia, he hadn’t had time to focus on the holidays, much less what they entailed. He supposed staying at the school wasn’t an option. Everyone was leaving: students, teachers, maintenance workers. Even after the Thanksgiving clusterfuck, no doubt he would be expected to come home for Christmas. There had been no confirmation call from either his parents, but that was no excuse. Where else could he go anyhow? He heaved a great sigh from the very marrow of his bones and sank further into the couch.

  
“Well, family, I guess,” he muttered and Jay stiffened beside him. He had no way of knowing details, but he knew enough that Nick and his family weren’t a great mix. Nick kept at his cheek, continuing to think further into his thoughts. Now the semester was over, he would have to leave soon. Not to Chicago. No, his family never spent Christmas at home. They would probably be up at the cabin. At least, that’s where Nick’s last seventeen Christmases were and the Carraways weren’t ones for change. He jolted out of thoughts of dates and plane tickets when a warm hand settled itself on his knee. Jay was looking down at him, careful to keep his face mostly blank. Mostly.

  
“Hey, you ok, Old Sport?”

  
Nick smiled in his most reassuring way possible. “I’m full on Gucci and Gabbana!” He shrugged his shoulders light-heartedly. “Just thinking about which airline is the best to use,” he answered truthfully.

  
“Ugh, just not Delta,” a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Jay’s lips the way it always did when he was anticipating some sort of private joke. Nick decided to humor him. Though his parents had been strict, he hadn’t lived underneath a rock.

  
“Because we’re Delta Airlines,” he began cheerily. “And life is a fucking nightmare!” Jay joined in for the last bit, throwing his head back in a beautiful full body laugh. He settled down quickly and sunk down against the couch next to Nick.

  
“God, I love that man.”

  
“John Mulaney?”

  
“No, Mr. Grinch,” Jay quipped back with rare sarcasm. Still, it warmed Nick to find a commonality with Jay, made him feel like he belonged to the same world as him. A real world devoid of broken stares and phony conversation. A real world where other people could appreciate John Mulaney. The rest of the Seuss cartoon was peppered with their top John Mulaney quotes, imitated back and forth, each followed by bursts of laughter from Jay and nearly always from Nick. The screen faded to credits as Jay shouted with the passion and spirit of a godless youth, “Fuck da police!” Nick crumpled against his shoulder, wrapped in peals of laughter as the warcry no doubt wrang down the hall.

  
“I SERVED my nickel you come and TAKE me!”

  
“Shh,” he hissed through his laughter, “we’re gonna get chewed out by everyone on this floor!” He tried to cover his breathless laughs in Jay’s (his) sweater sleeve. His core ached as he failed to stay upright. Nick full on hung off of Jay, still shaking from laughter. God, it felt good to laugh. He wiped the tears from his eyes and finally sat up straight, still gasping a little.

  
“What?” Nick breathed when he realized Jay was just watching him, calming down from laughing himself.

  
“Nothing,” he shook his head dreamily, the largest smile of them all spread across his face, “I’ve just never seen you laugh like that. It’s nice.”

  
Nick nearly choked.

  
“O-oh.” Jay wouldn’t stop smiling at him, wouldn’t look away, all of which made it extremely difficult to remember how to breathe. “Well, yeah,” he rasped out after mouthing out nothing but air like a desperate fish for a couple seconds, “it is. That is, it feels nice.” He coyly brushed some hair behind his ear, meeting Jay’s smile. Maybe it was because Jay had cranked the thermostat up so damn high and on top of that he was wearing a sweater, but Jay’s cheeks were the softest pink. The look suited him.

  
“You’re hot?”

  
“Thanks?”

  
“No,” Nick rolled his eyes fondly and stood up, “it wasn’t a statement. I was asking if you’re hot? Like, temperatures.”

  
“Oh! Uh, yeah, I am...in both regards,” Jay winked. Nick scoffed and turned on his heel to hide how red he went.

  
“Then don’t turn the heat up so high, dumbass,” he walked over to adjust the temperature back to a normal, human temperature.

  
“I’m gonna take that as a term of endearment,” Jay hummed, turning the TV off.

  
For the second time that day, Jay succeeded in endangering Nick’s airways. He turned back around only to come face to face with Jay stripping off the infamous Rudolph sweater. His breath caught painfully in his throat, all words trapped on his tongue and all thoughts erased from his mind. There was that compass rose again, only this time against a flushed backdrop. Jay emerged from the sweater, his carefully groomed hair mussed up with static. Nick couldn’t say anything, even if he wanted to. Pink spotted across his collar bones and a little down his chest. For the love of gay, it was beautiful. Lucky for Nick, Jay was too preoccupied with getting a new shirt to notice Nick’s lack of speech. He reappeared not half a minute later with a fresh dress shirt and a gray pea coat draped over his arm. Half a minute did not give Nick enough time to recuperate.

  
“Sorry about that,” Jay smirked, “It’s just I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that outside,” he slipped his coat on.

  
Nick swallowed hard, still staring at the rumpled sweater on the couch. “Are-are you going-going somewhere?”

  
“No. _We_ are going somewhere,” Jay handed him his scarf and coat. “Got a call earlier. Your suit’s ready for pickup.”

* * *

 

The tailor’s shop wasn’t so bad this time around. His outfit wasn’t as abysmal according to Moretti, and this time he was actually prepared for the task. Just pick up the suit and go.

  
“Don’t you want to try it on? To see if there are any necessary adjustments, Mr. Carraway?” Ok, so not just picking up the suit. Moretti’s simpering smile only thinly veiled his obvious judgement at Nick’s lack of tailoring experience. One would’ve thought that with his background, Nick would’ve been more accustomed to this, but his parents always just seemed to magically have a new suit for him should the occasion require it.

  
Nick bit the inside of his lip before taking the black bag carefully from Moretti. “Of course.” He had a feeling the man wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, a quality Nick found repulsive. He ambled into a dressing room and unzipped the bag. A low whistle escaped his lips. Jay’s taste and Moretti’s skill certainly outdid each other. This was definitely too nice for him to wear anywhere. Sure, his family had wealth but this was absolutely _regal_. How on earth were two college students going to pay for this? He slipped into the suit effortlessly, the whole thing fitting like a glove.

  
Nick stared at his reflection long and hard. It didn’t even look like him. The Nick he knew was a twiggy, anxious looking boy, not even a man. The person in the mirror (excepting his head) was a refined gentlemen who ran in the very top circles. It showed off his body in a flattering light unlike most suits. Dare he even feel attractive dressed like this? Jay undeniably had an eye for color, the midnight meshing well with his dark curls and pale skin.

  
“Well, signor? Aren’t you going to come out?” Oh he was going to come out alright. Just not with the suit on. As childish as it was, he wasn’t about to give Moretti the satisfaction of showing off his work and inflating his ego. He fumbled back into his normal clothes and put the suit carefully back in the bag.

  
“It fit great,” he avoided any words like marvelous or stupendous. Moretti smiled and nodded a little stiffly. _Ha, he had gotten to him._ Moretti turned from Nick, happy to go back to forgetting he was there in favor of Jay.

  
“As always,” Moretti clasped his hand, “a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Gatsby. Please, come by soon and give my very best to Dan!” Jay laughed and returned with a vigorous handshake.

“You can count on it!” Jay’s smile was too forced through the exchange. His hand slipped onto Nick’s back and he guided him out of the shop. He threw one final goodbye over his shoulder to the two men, practically shoving himself and Nick into the cold.

  
“Jay! The suit! We didn’t pay!” Nick panicked once they left. But Jay wasn’t by his side anymore, his hand no longer on his back. Already, Jay was walking briskly down the sidewalk. He had never been a fan of any type of cold, and seemed eager to get out of it. “Jay!” Nick yelled, jogging to catch up, “Jay we didn’t-”

  
“Hmm? Oh don’t worry about it. I payed,” he waved his hand, focused on the pavement ahead of him. The wave of his hand stung Nick; Jay had never brushed him off before. _Be reasonable. It’s not you._ He matched Jay’s pace, his long legs staying in tune for a few minutes before the cold began to numb his legs. Still, Jay didn’t say anything, just walked steadily on in some sort of trance.

  
“Jay,” Nick huffed, the brisk pace and the biting cold getting to him, “can we please slow down?” He adjusted the suit over his shoulder, the hand hanging onto it nearly blue. Jay paused and his eyes cleared since the tailor’s. He laughed softly to himself and stepped a little closer to Nick, “Sorry, Old Sport,” his voice clipped ever so slightly, “Here, let me take that for you,” he grabbed Nick’s suit after a pause. His pace slowed down considerably and he made sure to stay close enough to Nick to be his conjoined twin.

  
“Is there...is there something wrong?” Nick whispered after they had continued on in dutiful silence for a while.  
“No,” Jay hushed, his breath puffing out before him. They both knew it was a lie. That was the longest Jay’s eyes had gone dark like that. And it wasn’t even just his eyes. It was everything in his body. Nick nodded to himself and didn’t push the subject further. Jay could come to him in his own time, if that’s what he wanted. There was no point in forcing someone to feel better. An arm slid around Nick’s waist, pulling him fully to Jay’s side. Even though physical contact was a daily hazard with Jay, Nick knew he could never get used to it. His eyes darted to peer at Jay in his peripherals, but he was still looking somewhat downward at the pavement. This wasn’t for Nick’s comfort or uncomfort. This was for Jay himself. He could recognize that isolated expression anywhere; god knew he had seen it on himself enough. It was unsettling to see Jay this way, who was on all terms the brightest person he had ever met. What was more unsettling was the thought of what could’ve turned him this way. Nick matched Jay’s movement and slid an arm around his waist as well. A flicker of a smile returned to Jay’s pale lips. The silence that followed them to their door settled like a blanket around them: understanding, safe and warm.

  
The warm dorm quickly brought Jay’s spirits back up. He hooked up his Bluetooth to play his Christmas playlist, and gently hopped along as he elected to make more paper snowflakes, despite their front door already being covered in them. Nick didn’t mind. As long as Jay was happy. He had never seen Jay shaken before, and that was something he never wanted to experience again. Still, he wasn’t quite his sunny self all the way yet. Nick racked his brain for ideas for what they could do to bring that Christmas spirit back to Jay. His impending need for a plane ticket also weighed unfortunately against his mind.

  
Were there any events happening on campus? Any activities they could do? He was pretty sure there was an ice skating rink set up somewhere in town. That could be fun! Oh, but Jay didn’t like the cold and dragging him out just might make him grumpy again. They could watch another movie, but that wasn’t engaging enough. They both needed to get out and do something. There had been enough inside time this last week to satisfy even Nick. Then it struck him. Yes, it was perfect. Just what both of them needed.

  
“Say, Jay?” He casually set his pair of scissors down and tossed his snowflake to the side.

  
“What’s up?” Jay stayed focused on his creation.

  
“Well, I just remembered something. The newspaper is throwing a little Christmas party for all the writers as a ‘great job this semester’ kind of deal. I wasn’t gonna go, but I don’t know. If you wanna come with, I think it could be fun. Show you the newsroom, drink some eggnog or something. Do-do you want to?” Jay had slowly lowered his own scissors as Nick butchered his “casual” invitation. A smile came back to his face, slowly but surely as Nick fiddled with a scrap of paper.

  
“Are _you_ inviting _me_ to a party?” He grinned.

  
“Why’d you say it like that? I’ve invited you to parties before!” Nick flicked the paper he’d been playing with at Jay, eliciting a laugh. A for real, not forced, laugh.

  
“One party. You’ve invited me to one party before.”

  
“Well now it’s two. Do you wanna go?”

  
Jay nodded with growing excitement. “Of course! I’d love to go! Especially if it’s with you.”

  
Nick blushed and shook his head. There was nothing exciting about going anywhere with him. He couldn’t see the appeal. But at least Jay had agreed to come. Now they had something to do to distract Jay from his earlier gloom, and Nick from his own fast approaching misfortune.

* * *

 

The party was already in full swing by the time they got there. Hapdash streamers and been put up, rather unskillfully. They were writers, not decorators. Jay practically screeched when he saw the snack table had lofthouse cookies. He muttered something along the lines of loving those fluffy bastards before filling up a napkin with three of them.

  
Even though this was familiar territory to Nick, he wanted to follow Jay around, let him take control. But in this situation, the position of leader belonged to him. Disgusting. He didn’t really like eggnog, but still, he grabbed a cup. Just to give his hands something to do. Jay swallowed a large bite of cookie and looked around the newsroom.

  
“So, this is where the magic happens,” he hummed.

  
Nick snorted. “Yeah, sure. Not so much as magic as mental breakdown.”

  
“Man, I hear that,” Jay passed one of his cookies to Nick. “So which one’s your desk?” Nick led him over to the desk in the corner. True, it was in the back of the room but it was also, as Nick happily pointed out, closest to the heater. Excellent for a cozier writing space. Jay situated himself at the desk and tapped his fingers against what Nick assumed was an imaginary keyboard.

  
“I’m gonna crack this story wide open!” He exclaimed in an affected, muffled 1920’s style voice, chewing on a pretend cigar before he leaned back and nodded to himself. “Yeah, I get a newsy vibe from this desk.” A few of Nick’s fellow writers turned around to watch Jay’s theatrics. Nick shook his head but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Jay could fit in wherever, with whoever. It was a super power anyone would be lucky to have. He winked at someone over Nick’s shoulder and a surprised laugh rather close to his ear startled Nick. A jolly, somewhat rosy cheeked young man had appeared at his side. He was a few years his senior but had a kind, intelligent glint in his eye. Fitz, as he was fondly called by everyone else, had been a great help to Nick when he first joined the team. Editing papers, brainstorming angles for assignments, he was a godsend those first couple of weeks. Nick considered him a good friend. Not on Jay’s level by any means, but his company was equally as enjoyable.

  
“Who’s your friend, Nick?”

  
“Excuse me, his name’s Old Sport.”

  
Fitz laughed again, if not a little thoroughly confused by the odd statement. “Sorry, my bad. Who’s your friend, Old Sport?”

  
Nick snorted softly again, the pet name sounding unnatural passing through someone else’s lips. “This is Jay. Jay, this is Fitz. He’s a junior and the best writer in the group.” Fitz waved his hand good-naturedly at the compliment, but Nick knew he thrived on those sort of comments.

  
“You a writer Jay?”

  
“Nah, I’m barely a reader!” Jay laughed to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I’m always too busy for any books.” Both Nick and Fitz stared at him for a few seconds, both parties a little offended by that statement.

  
“You just haven’t found the right book to curl up with yet!” Fitz assured both Jay and himself, taking a sip of punch. Jay scrunched up his face in doubt, but let it pass. Never engage writers or avid readers in literary debate. He knew that much from a few close calls with Nick.

  
“So, what keeps you too busy for reading?” Fitz finished off the rest of his punch.

  
“Used to travel a lot,” Jay mused to himself, tipping back even farther in Nick’s chair. Nick watched the exchange over his own cup, observing the collide of two worlds. Luckily, both of these worlds were good, so everything was going fine. Fitz, like always, was drawn into the conversation by now, sitting on the edge of Nick’s desk and asking Jay about where he’d been, what he’d done, questions going a mile a minute.

  
“I can see why you’re a reporter,” Jay laughed when Fitz paused for breath.

  
Fitz blushed. “Sorry. Must be habit. I’ll let you think while I go get some more,” He wagged his plastic cup, “You coming...Old Sport? It looks like you’re drained too.”

  
“Very astute,” Nick agreed, “we’ll be right back,” he added aside to Jay, following Fitz back to the punch and eggnog bowls.

  
“So,” Fitz hummed as he poured himself another ladleful, “Are any sort of congratulations in order?” Nick wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly over the generally loud conversation in the room. He waited for Fitz to explain himself, cocking an eyebrow upwards. Fitz nodded back to Nick’s desk where Jay sat enjoying his last cookie.

  
“He’s quite a catch!”

  
Nick’s eyes went wide as he sputtered out a bunch of nonsense, “Oh he’s not - we’re not - he’s nice but I’m not - he’s certainly not - he’s my, my roommate. A great roommate! But, just that. A roommate.”

  
Fitz smirked as he lazily lifted his cup to his lips. “You know, Ernest was a great roommate, too.”

  
“Ernest?” Fitz didn’t make much sense at the best of times. But after a few cups of definitely spiked punch, well, talking with him became more of an Olympic Sport with a lot of dodging, rolling, and confusion. Nick had no idea who Ernest was, what he and Fitz may or may not have done or how that applied to him and Jay, but he didn’t like the way Fitz was smirking at him.

  
Fitz released Nick from his appraisal with another sip of punch. As if he needed anymore. Punch was giving his friend ideas. Ideas are bad. “Alright, let’s go see if your ‘great roommate’ has any answers for me yet.”

  
Jay did indeed have his answers prepared, and talked almost fast enough to rival Fitz himself. Most of the information threatened to blow by Nick. Jay never talked much about his own home life, which Nick couldn’t blame him for. But the stories Jay was telling, there was no way half of them could be real.

  
He hadn’t really gone to high school. Instead, he spent his past few years on a boat, sailing from the Mediterranean to the Pacific. His education was through people around the world. He learned from old masters in Japan, or from the vendors in bazaars. Everything he said was fantastical. Nick didn’t know what to believe. While the stories he told were shocking on their own, they were less so when one considered they were linked with someone as mysterious and strange as Jay Gatsby. But how could they be true, even if it was Jay telling them? It didn’t seem plausible. Were they imaginings Jay wished had happened, or had this really been his life. He blushed as he remembered the beautiful compass rose sprawled across his hip. Perhaps he _had_ been a sailor for the past four or three years and had gotten the tattoo to commemorate it all. Then again, he could’ve gotten it as a way to solidify his fantasies. Nick hadn’t realized he had all together stopped listening in favor of deduction until Jay stopped talking.

  
“So, traveling man, you doing any traveling over break?” Fitz asked, somehow avoiding being awed into silence by Jay’s accounts. Jay deflated a bit at this question. Maybe he hadn’t thought to prepare a wild story for this one.

  
“No. I-My family is. They’re traveling but I can’t join them. It’s all a little complicated,” Jay muttered, picking a sprinkle off Nick’s desk. Here Jay was, looking small again. Looking more like a Jay Gatsby impersonator than the actual Jay Gatsby. Had the same happened to him over Thanksgiving? Nick knew he hadn’t left town like himself, but he just assumed his family lived nearby. Only now did he realize that couldn’t be the case. If his family was nearby, why would Jay be wasting money on room and board? Why wouldn’t he be going to see them more often. Nick shriveled inside at the idea of Jay, alone in their dorm on Thanksgiving. And Nick hadn’t even so much as bothered to ask what his plans had been. Now, with campus effectively shutting down for about two and a half weeks, where would Jay be going this time?

  
“Come with me.”

  
Jay looked up from the sprinkle on his finger tip. Fitz’s head spun around quickly.

  
“What?” The men said in unison.

  
“You should come to my family’s cabin with me. They’d be thrilled to have you join us,” Nick pushed on with his hair brained plot. _What am I saying? Jay come stay at my family’s cabin with me? With my family?!_

  
Jay shifted in his seat, leaning forward a little. “Are you sure? There wouldn’t be a problem with that? Like, your family would be chill with me coming?” He seemed to perk up as he spoke, his eyes beginning to shine again.

  
Nick’s breath caught in his throat, staring at those ridiculously hopeful eyes. “Of course! The more the merrier. Besides, I don’t want you abandoned during Christmas.”

  
Jay hopped out of the seat and leaned over the desk toward Nick. “We really gonna do this?” He smiled, lighting up like a kid being told they’re going to Disneyland. Nick could only nod enthusiastically. He was sure he could trust himself to speak: it would more likely come out as a fearful squeak.  
“Alright!” Jay laughed, “I’ll go and pack right now!”

  
“I’ll book the tickets!” Nick squeaked out. Jay ran around the desk and crushed Nick in a hug. A happy huff tickled Nick’s ear and Jay squeezed him tighter the moment before he let go. He placed his hands on both sides of Nick’s face and breathed, “You’re a Saint.” Nick’s heart skipped a beat. He was fully aware of Jay reaching past him to shake Fitz’s hand before rushing out the door. Nick touched a hand to his cheek where Jay had held him, warmth tingling through his body. He wouldn’t have to face his family alone. Jay was going to be with him. Jay was going to have a Christmas. Heart still hammering against his sweater, he cleared his throat and turned to Fitz. The smirk, more fond than malicious, had returned to his face.

  
“What?”

  
“You’re just great roommates.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who’ve read any previous works, you’ll know just how much I love to throw real people into my works of fiction, especially if it’s the original author. It’s just so funny to me for some reason. I love the idea of authors interacting with their characters. It’s just so wholesome. (Also, I still maintain that Fitz himself was bi and definitely had some sort of a thing going on with Ernest Hemingway) 
> 
>  
> 
> I’m still pretty sick and I’m going to be going in for surgery in a week. Not that you guys need or want to know that. (Don’t worry it’s not too serious. Hopefully this will fix things and I can get back to life as normal) I’ll try to get the next chapter out before hand. I’m just so excited to write the Christmas chapters! It’s Christmas baby!
> 
>  
> 
> If you guys have any requests or wishes to see in this fic, or even just a one shot in the same universe as this fic (like a date after they’re together, or more pre-date pining, alternate perspectives, You name it), let me know! You can ask me on tumblr (@sewer-seance) or down in the comments!


	17. Granot Loma

“So this is Minnesota?” Jay hummed to himself as they stepped off the plane. The last couple hours had been quite the hassle. After an hour of haphazardly packing and looking for good airline tickets, they were set to go the next morning. Well they would’ve been had either of them remembered to set an alarm. They barely made it in time for their flight. On the plane, Jay finally asked, “So where are we going?” Nick hadn’t told him a thing yet. Nothing about where they were headed, or the “cabin”, or how to prepare himself for the Carraways. Instead of sleep or reading, the plane ride was spent filling Jay in on all the details.

      “We’re headed to my family’s cabin in Minnesota. It’s where we spend every Christmas. And like my family, it’s cold and intimidating.”

      Jay just set his shoulders and smiled softly at Nick, “Well, I guess I’ll just have to learn how to deal with it. It won’t be too hard. After all, I learned how to deal with you,” he winked. Nick flushed and turned to look out the clouded window. Maybe bringing Jay along for Christmas wasn’t his brightest idea. True, the man would be able to keep him sane through the season and time with his family. However, his family might start to question just why it had to be a man to keep him sane. The last thing he needed was to be implicated, least of all dragging Jay along with him in the process. He reminded himself right then and there on the plane to keep his distance this next week or so. Not a problem. He could last a week without falling all over Jay, right? And this time he wouldn’t leave early.

      “Yup. This is Minnesota. The state that’s semi-secretly just another part of Canada,” Nick tried to joke, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious being back here. It was still a bit of a drive before they would reach the cabin. The abode was settled nicely in a forest in the Northland area; a good three hours away from the major cities. Another problem with coming to the cabin with Jay. It would be them and his family, cut off from the rest of the world except for a podunk little town that looked like it belonged on a low budget hallmark movie.

      Nick stopped misstep in the middle of the airport, Jay turning back to look at him a few steps ahead. He cocked his head to the side in question. Nick chewed on the inside of his cheek before muttering (and definitely not whining) loud enough for Jay to hear, “Is it too late to go back on the plane?” Jay chuckled and came back to Nick’s side, slipping his arm casually about his shoulders as he was so prone to do these days.

      “It’s not going to be as bad as you think. I’m with you this time. Come on, I think we can show Minnesota how to have fun,” He soothed, rubbing the tension out of his shoulders. Nick nodded. That was true, Jay was with him this time. He just hadn’t decided if that was a good or bad thing yet. But as Jay held him to his side as they continued on, he started to feel that it was a very _very_ good thing.

      “We need to get a car somehow,” Nick mentioned as they heaved their bags off the carousel.

      “So we rent one.”

      “We’re not old enough, unless you’re secretly 25,” Nick teased.

      Jay smirked and tapped the side of his nose, “Connections, Old Sport, are everything. Wait for me at the curb I’ll take care of it.”

      Nick wasn’t sure what to make of that as Jay disappeared through a crowd leaving the baggage claim. Perhaps the Gatsby clan was wealthier than he thought, if Jay could get them name recognition in Minnesota. He didn’t have too long to ruminate on that because soon Jay had apparently found a car and was pulling up to the curb. Good thing too. It was freezing outside. If he had waited any longer in the cold, it didn’t matter if he was straight or not: he wouldn’t be having children any time soon. However, the car was absolutely ridiculous. Nick didn’t expect anything less from Jay. It was a bright yellow sports car, sticking out among the Toyota’s and the Hyundai's. Jay got out and slapped the hood.

         “This bad boy can fit so many Nick Carraways in it.”

      “Oh my god I can not believe you just said that. To my face, no less.”      

      Jay shot him the absolute cheesiest grin as he lifted his suitcase into the trunk. Nick couldn’t even pretend that it was the cold that made his heart skip a beat like that. In fact, Nick hardly felt cold with Jay looking at him.

      “Do I even want to know how you got this car?” Nick asked, rubbing his hands together as he adjusted to the car’s heaters. The interior was even more lavish, leather seats and an expensive looking dashboard. He didn’t know much about cars, but he knew enough that this could very easily be a spy car, given its designs.

      “Don’t worry, it was...legal,” he held out the end for a while, as if already regretting using what was obviously an inaccurate word. Jay whipped out of the airport, not thinking to ask Nick for directions. Nick couldn’t think to give them anyways; he hadn’t expected Jay to _floor it._ Card and road signs zoomed past. All the while, Nick was glued to the back of his seat. He leaned back in his seat, too scared to look out the windshield and too scared to not to at the same time.

      Jay glanced over at Nick and immediately slowed down, maybe a little too suddenly. Both of them jerked forwards in their seats at the loss of momentum. “Holy _shit_ you’re white!” He frowned, “I’m sorry Nick.”

      “No, that was, uh,” Nick finally trusted himself to close his eyes, “...fun,” he gulped. Jay laughed and shook his head, maintaining a more logical speed now.

    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you even more nervous than you already are.”

    Nick glanced at Jay from the corner of his eye. As if Nick could ever be relaxed around Jay. Still, it was oddly thrilling that Jay even thought about that kind of thing. He shifted in the seat, slumping in it a little. It was a three and a half hour drive until they reached the cabin, and he was determined to let himself each and every second until then. There was no use wasting alone time with Jay stressing over the inevitable. Besides, Jay was right. This time would be better: he wasn’t alone.

    Nick quickly learned that Jay was not the best driver, if those first 30 seconds hadn’t already clued him in. He was more focused on talking to Nick, or singing along with every single Christmas hit that came on the radio than he was on the road. Maybe they would get in a crash on the way there. Then Nick _really_ wouldn’t have to worry about seeing his family. Nonetheless, three hours flew by: due mostly in part to Jay’s apparent lack of respect for speed limits. A half hour to go. A half hour to go and Nick hadn’t briefed Jay at all on what to expect. A half hour was not enough time.

    “What do you know about my family?” Nick sat up abruptly, turning to look full on at Jay.

    “Well, not a lot. I know you like your sister, and I know a little about your dad.”

    “You do?” Nick couldn’t recall ever talking about his dad to Jay. Not explicitly at least.

    “Uhm, Google,” Jay supplied, turning down the radio a bit. It was easy to sense that this wasn’t a Jingle Bell Rock kind of conversation.

    “Okay, I should probably key you in on a few things,” Nick settled back into his seat. Where to begin? It’s not the easiest to just launch into a conversation about your barely holding it together family. “They’re not the...most open-minded people. It’s just best to avoid politics, or opinions in general because they’re not the greatest at listening either. My dad is a business man through and through, but you probably already know that from Google,” Nick laughed a little at that. So good so far: it hadn’t turned into word vomit yet. “Mom appreciates small talk. I think that’s all she knows anyways. All they care about are connections, the both of them. Ruth, well, you know Ruth. I don’t know if she’ll be there or not, after everything at Thanksgiving.” Nick trailed off here. He had almost forgotten their one-sided fight. God, he wish he could forget it. Since then he hadn’t heard from her which was nothing new. It wasn’t as if he tried to reach out to her either. What if she was there at the cabin? All this time Nick had been preparing for his father, he hadn’t had time to think about Ruth.

    “Dante?” Jay prodded and Nick shook himself from his reverie.

    “Hmm?”

    “So is it just your parents and Ruthie?” Nick snorted at Ruthie. In his mind’s eye, he could see her wrinkling up her nose at the pet name like someone had shoved a jug of spoilt milk into her face. Please let Jay try out that name in front of her. That would make the pain of her being there so completely worth it.

    “No,” Nick answered, “Joey will be there too. Just don’t say Joey in front of my parents: call him Joseph. They don’t like frilly names. He’s pretty simple. Good boy, likes sports, our parent’s favorite. I think he’ll really like you,” Nick recalled the similar realization he had over Thanksgiving. Nick watched as Jay ran the information over in his mind, storing away notes for later. He muttered to himself as he committed all Nick had told him to memory, lips fluttering ever so slightly. Nick warmed even more and not because of his sweater. Jay cared. _Actually_ cared. With a blush, Nick noticed that memorizing family members wasn’t typical roommate behavior, even friend behavior. It was more the behavior of a significant other. Nick nosed into his sweater as his blush spread. Jay did a lot of things that a partner would. He was coming home for Christmas for one thing. Of course, it wasn’t intentional: that was just how Jay was. Still, it couldn’t hurt to pretend, even if just for a second, that it could possibly more to Jay too.

    No. It _could_ hurt. More importantly, it would hurt. Not just Nick, but Jay too. He had to get out of this mindset now, especially going into this two week stretch. This was the most important time for him to keep his wits about him. It would be good to start with having wits though. Nick settled himself down, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face when Jay started to sing, “And someone please tell Joey, that Christmas will be snowy,” under his breath.

   

* * *

 

Growing up wealthy can create a bit of a disconnect. It was easy to forget that your normal wasn’t normal for everyone else. Nick didn’t expect to have the problem with Jay: he didn’t try to keep his own wealth a secret. That was obvious from the whole tailor shop experience. So Nick wasn’t ready for Jay to stop the car right outside the gate and very gently whisper, “what the fuck.”

Jay was leaning over the steering wheel, Mouth slightly agape and eyes almost bugging out. Nick looked up from his phone and to the grand expanse of the “Cabin”. Cabin didn’t really fit the estate, but it was what it had always been referred to in the family. Mansion was more fitting. It stood on a raised base of gray brick and took up their entire line of sight. The dark wood turrets were frosted over with generous amounts of snow, the windows sparkling in the rising sun. Anyone who says there aren’t castles in America has obviously never heard of the one percent.

“How rich is your family?”

“Uh, we’re...comfortable.”

Jay started the car again and started to drive through the round driveway, a miniature hedge maze in the center. A miniature hedge maze he nearly ran into because he was too busy looking at the house.

“I think comfortable is a bit of an understatement,” Jay scoffed, “Just how big is this place?”

“26 bedrooms, 26 fireplaces, 13 bathrooms, three libraries, two kitchens, two great halls, a courtyard, and giant indoor hot tub somewhere,” Nick recited plainly. Jay gaped at him for a second, at a complete loss for words.

“You know all of this just off the top of your head?”

“I spent a lot of boring Christmases here. Counting was about as much fun as you could have,” he sunk in his seat a little. It was a little weird that he could just ramble off the traits of the house like he was some overly tired, underpaid realtor. Weird or pretentious, take your pick. Jay slowly rolled in front of the grandiose staircase, the two of them staring up at the front door for a few seconds. Even the cheesy Christmas music in the background couldn’t decrease the effect the house had over them. Nick sighed and squeezed himself before reaching for the handle. His other hand was snatched from his lap. He caught his breath as Jay interlocked their fingers and muttered, “Alright. We can do this.” All too soon, he let go of his hand and hopped out f the car. Nick took a deep breath before joining him. “Not a couple. Not a couple,” he scolded himself before stepping out into the snow.

Jay kept turning on the spot as the walked up the stairs, taking it all in, eyes bright like an eight year old on Christmas morning. Questions rolled off his tongue as they climbed the stairs while Nick wondered, not for the first time, how Jay could somehow be so childish yet undoubtedly the adult of their twosome.

“Is it ok I parked there?”

“Should be. If not we can move it, you won’t get in trouble.” _I will._

“Do you guys have servants?”

“...yes? Last time I checked.”

“How old is this place?” They were standing just outside the giant oak doors now, Jay jumping on the stone as if to test how sturdy it was.

“I think it was built in the 20’s. And stop jumping,” Nick laughed, trying to stay Jay with a hand on his shoulder. Jay jumped a few more times, pulling a heavier laugh out of Nick. His eyes gleamed at the sound and he stopped once Nick was good and smiling.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

“Good. At least one of us should be.”

The door was opened by a maid, who took their bags and coats from them as they filed in. Luckily, Jay seemed to get out all of his goofy energy on the porch and treated it all as very normal. No staring at the maid when she opened the door and calmly gave her his coat. Maybe they could actually pull this off. Nick had never seen Jay in his stiff, upper class mode for an extended period of time. He would just have to trust that Jay could keep it up. Nick made sure to ask where his parents were before she could wander off. It was much quicker to ask rather than go searching for themselves. Fortunately, they were nearby. Jay would just have to wait for the full tour. They made their way to the nearest parlor. Nick stopped them before they went in. First he smoothed himself down: pushed his ever longer hair behind his ears, straightened his sweater, patted down his pants to free them of stray wrinkles and snow. Next he turned his attention to Jay and went to repeat the same process. He brushed Jay’s shoulders nervously while muttering, “ok, ok, ok,” to himself. Jay chuckled softly and caught his hands, holding them on his shoulders.

“Dante, it’s gonna be ok,” he pressed his hands softly between his own. Nick looked down to hide the pink in his cheeks and slipped his hands out of Jay’s. Oh it definitely was not going to be ok. Not if he couldn’t get a hold of himself in front of this too sweet, too annoyingly oblivious, man.

“Alright, you’re right,” Nick sighed and turned the corner into the parlor. His parents were seated around the softly cracking fire, ever in their picturesque, stiff way. They turned their heads when Nick cleared his throat.

“Mom, Dad,” he said in the most cheerful way he could manage given the environment. They must’ve been in a good mood because they rose from where they were seated and went to him, rather than making him come to them.

“Merry Christmas Nick,” his mother smiled softly and laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment. That was practically a hug from the woman. Nick’s father stopped by his wife’s side, and while he didn’t smile, or welcome Nick with the same exuberance, he did nod and wish him a Merry Christmas too. However, he was infinitely interested in the boy who stood just to the side of his son, hands neatly tucked behind his back, waiting to be introduced.

“Who’s your friend, son?”

Nick forced himself not to panic. This was normal. This was his friend. Introductions are easy. Bringing Jay means nothing, he was just being a good sumaritan. Nick sighed and looked over to Jay.

“This is, ah, my roommate.” He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets to stop them from shaking. Jay took that as his cue to step in.

“Jay Gatsby,” he flashed a smile and put his hand out for Mr. Carraway. Your son is a good friend of mine and was nice enough to invite me home for the Holidays when he found out my folks were going out of town,” he shook the somewhat flabbergasted Mr. Carraway’s hand. Nick bit back his smirk. His father was never caught off guard. Then again, his father had never met Jay Gatsby. It was only for a few seconds though. Then he was back on his game, looking Jay shrewdly over.

“Gatsby? Tell me, what does your family do?” Of course he would start with family. It was all about connections with the man. Connections and power.

“My family made their money in copper way back when. I’ve spent a lot of time with the family business working on international deals and such,” Jay supplied back, subtly bragging. His face was ever so slightly smug, as if he knew that he was in already. An internationally connected copper mogul. His father would be thrilled. And he was. The man even _smiled._ True, it was more of a twitch at the corner of his mustache, but he nodded appreciatively.

“Well, we’re very lucky to have our boy rooming with you. It’s a shame we haven’t met sooner,” his father glanced briefly at Nick. Ah yes. Who could’ve guessed that his father would still find a way to disprove of him, even after a “success”.

Jay turned his attention to Mrs. Carraway and smiled sweetly at her. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Carraway. It really is very hospitable. Have you decorated the place yourself?”

Immediately his mother was invested. If it was physically possible for her, she would’ve flushed. “Yes, actually. It’s all done under my direction.” She tilted her chin upward a little, sensing the possibility of praise. Jay gave it to her.

“Well, it’s lovely. Absolutely stunning interior. You must be quite the hostess.”

Nick watched the repertoire between Jay and his parents. They were completely entranced by him, and all in a few words. It should’ve been impossible. Already he could see the cogs turning in their heads. His father was drawing up a possible business deal to link their families even more. His mother was already scheming of a way to show him off at one of her events. Jay had really made sure that Nick wouldn’t have to do any work, put in any effort to warm his parents up to Jay. Already, half the stress of their trip disappeared as he talked with his parents like they were old friends. But while he could fool the all too willing parents, Nick couldn’t help but notice the way Jay was a little more stiff, his smile a little too fixed, the spark in his eyes a little too subdued. Nick caught himself before his staring lasted a little too long.

“I’m so sorry we don’t have a room prepared for you,” his mother sniffed, “We would have had Nick let us know beforehand that you were coming.” Again, it was his fault. Any kudos he had earned at bringing Jay were wearing thin fast. But once again, Jay jumped in to lessen the heat on Nick.

“I don’t mind sharing a room with Nick. I mean, we have been these last couple months anyways,” he laughed quietly at that, pulling hesitant smiles from his parents, “I wouldn’t want to put you out of your way.” That seemed to put his mother more at ease.

“Well, I’ll have a room ready for you by tomorrow,” she settled and made her way back to her chair by the fire. “Nick, why don’t you and Jay go settle in?” Nick nodded simply, still struggling to find words after watching how easily Jay had talked with two of the stiffest people alive.

“Yes, get settled in. Then we’ll have to talk some more,” his father clapped a hand on Jay’s shoulder, which was code for “prepare for an interrogation”. _So he can touch a stranger but not his son._ Nick hurried out of the room before anything else could happen. After they were in a different hallway, heading up one of the many flights of stairs, Nick let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh my god!” he gasped, and stared starry-eyed at Jay, “I can’t believe you!”

“What?” Jay smirked, knowing very well what.

“All I know is if I asked my parents if we could share a room, I would be sleeping in a bed in breakfast in town. You’re a magician.”

Jay bowed dramatically, nose almost touching the stairs. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed in this house. Jay really was a magician.

“Alright, come on, I’ll show you where we’re wholing up for the next couple of days.”

Nick always stayed in the same room. It was smaller than most of the others, which is to say it wasn’t small at all, and a little further apart. It was in the west wing of the cabin (“There are  _wings_?!”) and was more of its own apartment. Like all the others, it had a standard attached bathroom. But aside from the privacy, Nick loved how cozy it was. Both the window seat and large four poster had plenty of pillows and blankets, things he tended to hoard. It even had its own little fireplace that was already lit and warming the room. The colors were dark and comforting. It was more than easy to curl up and close the curtains on the bed, or snuggle up next to the frosty panes of the window. Even among countless Christmases past, each one growing more dim, this room had always been a comfort.   
  
“Here we are. Mi casa is something casa,” Nick huffed, already flopping onto the bed. The one and only bed. He sat back up quickly to see if Jay minded if he had even noticed the lack of dual beds. He hadn’t. He was looking at the antique photos adorning the mantle that Nick used to turn upside down when he was little because he thought they were haunted. 

“This is beautiful,” Jay breathed, turning to the window and the plush seat underneath it, “I made the right call, staying with you for Christmas.” He whipped around to beam at Nick before running over and jumping on the bed next to him. 

“So, what’s next, Old Sport?” 

Nick rolled over onto his stomach and shrugged. “I don’t know. My parents probably want us to go back down sometime. Good job, by the way. You handled them beautifully.” 

Jay scowled slightly at that and nodded his head lightly. “Still don’t like your dad though. I’ve met his kind of business man before.” 

Nick snorted and breezed past the comment. Getting into a heated discussion about his father is not what he needed right now. Especially if both of them needed to be cordial with him. Best to keep Jay on his dad’s good side, and vice versa. That was a whole can of worms he’d rather leave on the shelf, never opened. 

“We can unpack, I could give you a tour of the house. I think it’s too soon to sneak off to town but that’s an option for later. There’s a lot of stuff we could do.”

Jay rolled onto his side and propped his elbow up. “A tour would be nice. Don’t hold back. I want to see where all the secret passage ways are and all the haunted rooms.” Nick shoved at him a little. He was already terrified at the prospect of old Carraway ghosts without Jay encouraging those fantasies. Nick would much rather focus on a different type of fantasy, even if he couldn’t at the moment. And he definitely couldn’t if he was going to be sharing a bed with Jay. 

“Ok, so tour and then we can go eat with my parents. We’ll see how we feel after that.”

Jay laughed and rolled back over onto his side. “I don’t know why you’re planning out the day so precisely,” he teased. Nick tried to keep a level face, scooting closer to Jay. 

“You don’t understand! You gotta be fast with the Carraways, everything has to be premeditated or else you find yourself in life and death situations. Wise up, Gatsby. You’re in Carraway territory, you gotta stay on your toes!”

Jay’s eyes sparked and he scooted even closer, whispering fearfully between them, though the effect was ruined by his bright smile. “Life and death? What kind?” He leaned in as he talked, trying to get to the point where he could graze Nick with his nose. Nick just laughed, throwing his head back a bit before bringing it back barely even an inch before Jay’s face. He wasn’t going to refuse this kind of closeness, especially if Jay was the one instigating it. 

“I’m talking mothball tuxedos. Hors d’oevres that taste like sewers. Sloppy kisses from mustached aunts and drunk uncles.” 

Jay gasped and fainted onto his back. “It’s a good thing we have you to plan, then!” Nick nodded knowingly before launching himself off the bed. 

“Come on. Let’s go find a secret passage way but absolutely no ghost hunting.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s right. I’m pulling out the “oh no there’s only one bed” trope even though there’s evidently 26 or so beds.  
> Also, I’m basing The Carraway’s cabin off of a real place that actually has the audacity to exist, but the interior decorations don’t flow with me, so I’m changing it up a little. 
> 
> So sorry this took a while to bust out. It turns out my surgery was a little more serious than intended, but everything went fine and I’m good as new apart from the massive amounts of school work waiting for me. 
> 
> As always, I love to hear back from you guys, whether you’re old or new. You can also feel free to talk to me on my tumblr under the same name.


	18. Green is the Color...

* * *

They never found that secret passageway, but they did find their way to two of the libraries and the great hall. Their greatest discovery was in the game room. Among all the pool and air hockey tables, the foosball and the stack of board games, was Nick’s younger brother, Joey. He was set up at an archaic basketball hoop: the kind with the net underneath that all rinky dink arcades seemed to have. Joey paused in his lazy succession of tosses when the two came in.

  
“Nick!” He beamed and ran over to give him a quick hug. Only a month had passed but in that time, he had somehow found a way to grow two more inches, finally catching up to Nick’s height.

  
“I’m not that exciting,” Nick breathed, halfway to a laugh.

  
“Yeah but it’s pretty boring here, being the only ‘kid’, so you’re exciting right now,” Joey meandered back over to the hoop as he spoke, “I’ve been down here all day.” He picked up one the basketballs and turned back to Nick, but his eyes completely passed him by. Instead, he looked after Jay, neither wary nor enthusiastic. He made no indication towards Jay either other than looking straight at him, almost through him, waiting for someone to give him an answer to a question he never asked.

  
“This is, ah, Jay. He’s my roommate,” Nick gestured to his side. That seemed to satisfy Joey, as he turned to shoot another hoop, but apparently it wasn’t quite enough for Jay. Like before, he jumped into action and walked confidently to Joey’s side, towing Nick along by his sleeve. He casually picked up one of the basketballs.

  
“You’re pretty good,” Jay twirled the ball in his hands. Nick couldn’t help but smirk to himself. Jay, by all accounts, was a hip, sociable person. Yet no one had ever reminded Nick so strongly of an old man trying to get in with the cool kids than Jay did at this moment, twirling the ball and trying to break into conversation with the preoccupied Joey. He patiently waited his turn before making his shot easily. Joey, indifferent before, started to pay more attention to Jay. The bait was working, but there were no bites yet. “Nick tells me you’re really good at sports. I even hear you’re a captain!”

  
There it was. Joey smiled to himself and threw another ball before glancing at Nick quickly. Jay made the whole thing sound more glamorous than it really was, as if it hadn’t been a rushed discussion in a car and was instead months of proud stories. But that was just the good ‘ol, classic, Gatsby spin: he was good at making things seem less broken than they really were.  

  
“Yeah, Lacrosse team. My dad used to be captain when he was in school,” Joey let out easily. And another easy family win for Jay. Nick just shook his head in awe. It was so easy for him. He couldn’t wrap his head around the way Jay could mold himself to be whatever the other person needed him to be and never once bat an eye. They shot hoops, conversation flowing between them now while Nick sat just to the side to watch. He watched the movement mechanically, not really seeing. His eyes would bounce from the hoop, to the tarp, to Jay’s face. He was so animated, smiling and chatting away, but even with his entire body his motion, each muscle contracting and releasing, right down to the flex of his fingers to grab the ball firmly, there was still an element of rigidness. His movements lacked fluidity, and were too automatic. His smile, a little too focused, even when playing a game of hoops.

  
It wasn’t the tense sort of fake that Nick had seen so many times, but more subtle, just skipping natural. In fact, it frightened him how close to normal it all seemed. Jay was a chameleon, changing his colors in order to survive in whatever habitat he was thrown into. Sometimes it was an obvious hue change, like magenta or deep purple. But this, this was teal. This was turquoise. This was so close to green, Nick had to look twice. But what scared him most wasn’t the rainbow of colors he had seen Jay pass through. That was just Jay: it would feel more wrong if he stayed green all the time. No, it was the possibility that green wasn’t Jay’s natural hue. What if green was just the specific color for Nick? Changing, adapting was so easy for him. What could possibly make Nick so special that Jay wouldn’t have a hue for him? Nothing. So maybe green wasn’t his natural color.

  
Nick stared hard at Jay as he thought, drowning in an all encompassing green. The most brilliant, happy green to ever exist. It sparked and it zipped and it ate Nick whole. The green wasn’t really all around him, it was one specific pinprick that he had fallen into. Two specific pinpricks. His eyes, Jay’s eyes met his but they weren’t fearing or questioning. They were bold, light rippling through the air towards him as Jay met Nick’s scowl with a smile.

  
Maybe green wasn’t his natural color. Maybe everything in the universe was all just part of a clever ruse to dupe Nick into believing in something other than fear for once in his life. Ridiculous. Jay Gatsby was green and green was Jay Gatsby. One could not exist without the other. Nick knew because he had seen it. Somehow, he was the special haven where Jay could be green and nothing else. He wouldn’t need to put on purple, or blue, or any other color he didn’t want to. God knows _why_ Jay would choose Nick but he knew he must have. It was the only explanation. At least, it was the only explanation Nick ever wanted to hear. He didn’t think his heart could take it if Jay was anything else but green and if anyone else but himself knew it.

  
“Old Sport?” Jay called out. Not for the first time, either, apparently, given his volume. Both he and Joey were staring at Nick, waiting for a response. He looked back and forth between them quickly. _Shit_! Had he been caught staring at Jay? Fuck, this was exactly the sort of thing he wanted to avoid-

  
“You were staring off into the distance pretty intense there for a second,” Jay kind of laughed, reaching out to shake Nick’s shoulder. He ducked his head in a blush and was about to mumble some poor excuse before Joey piped up.

  
“Oh that’s just Nick. He’s always thinking like that. I remember, we never played the last few years before he left for college because he was always thinking in his room or something like that,” he shrugged and half-heartedly tossed one more hoop.

  
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Jay smiled conspiratorially with Joey, but his eyes slid back to Nick, a hint of...something, lingering in them. Nick couldn’t tell what. For all his staring and his thinking, he couldn’t tell what Jay thought. In a second, the look was gone. “Alright. Well, my stomach's been telling me that it’s lunch time for a while now, so we should probably start trying to solve this labyrinth house and get some food!”

* * *

 

Lunch was already spread across the long table in the grand dining room by the time the reached the other end of the house. Nick Carraway has never really felt like a kid in the first place. Perhaps he did once for a fleeting second years and years ago. But rushing into the dining room laughing with Jay for the millionth time and with his brother for the first, he felt fresh and as cheerful as an 8 year old. This sort of decorum, or lack of, had never been seen in the cabin before.

  
“A little late, aren’t we boys,” their mother sniffed, nursing a cup of coffee at the near end of the table. Joey sobered quickly, but Nick had to fight the urge to giggle. Can you believe that? Him, giggling! Like a love sick school boy. Well, really, wasn’t that what he was?

  
Jay flashed an apologetic smile in their mother’s direction. “Sorry about our tardiness, but you can’t very well blame a couple of young men from getting carried away in a good game of hoops,” he explained quickly. Mrs. Carraway, shockingly only shook her head and was that... _a smile_ over the edge of her cup?

  
“Alright, go ahead and help yourselves. I just hope you know this means we’ll have a late dinner now too.”

  
“Of course, mother,” Nick nodded, solemnity finding him at last.

  
“Thank you Mrs. Carraway,” Jay added.

  
They all tucked in with as much restraint as they could. Even though all of their stomachs had growled at one point or another on their trek to the dining room, there was absolutely no way Mrs. Carraway would condone rapid or ravenous eating. As they ate, the light streaming through the large floor to ceiling windows grew weaker with every passing second. Nick nearly jumped out of his seat when Jay grabbed his knee suddenly and squeezed it underneath the table. He shot Jay a panicked look, but Jay wasn’t looking at him. No, his gaze was focused excitedly out one of the windows.

  
“Nick,” he hissed, “we need to have a snowball fight.” He shook Nick’s knee as he spoke, as if he were trying to physically transfer the sudden wave of excitement that had overcome him. Nick had to cover his snigger as his entire leg was jostled about, like a child tugging on their parent’s arm as they begged for a treat or toy.

  
“Ok but we only have about a half hour of light left.”

  
Jay scoffed while tossing roast potato into his mouth, “Where does it say in the rule book you need light to chuck ice and snow at your friends?”

  
Nick snorted his water and was thrown into a painful combination of coughing laughter, earning him a nasty eyebrow from his mother. Jay smirked into his own cup of coffee to hide his guilt. He was tempted to kick a little at Jay under the table, but there was no foreseeable future where that would go over well.

  
“So, snowball fight?” Jay ventured again after a few minutes of silence. Nick pretended to think it over for a few seconds before grinning.

  
“Snowball fight.”

  
A few more bites of food, some quick thank you’s, and enough zipping, clipping, and attaching for deep sea diving, they were ready to go. Thankfully it had been a mild day, which was currently turning into a mild evening. Three boys tramped down the stone steps in the back of the house (of course, they couldn’t leave Joey behind). The second a snow boot touched Earth, the war began. They flung themselves into the snow, each eager to be the first one with a snowball nestled safely in their hands. Anarchy took over with the first flung snowball. There was no time to build shelter or defense: only weaponry. If even that. Most of the time all either of them had time for was throwing unpacked clumps of snow frantically at one another. Several times these explosions of snow hit them full on in the face, pieces creeping down their necks and into their coats. Amid the shouts, laughter, and muffled thuds of them slipping on patches of ice, night snuck up on them. It wasn’t until they could barely see each other enough to attack that they noticed that the sun had gone down some time ago. The vicious, hours long assault had soaked their clothes, which stuck stiffly to their skin in the rapidly declining temperatures. Though probably too late, they all quickly agreed that it was time to go in before they turned to ice all the way.

  
Nick and Jay burst into their room, nearly falling over each other in their own haste. Joey had gone his own way. The lucky bastard, his room was closer than theirs had been. Nick groaned, forcing his joints to move. He nearly toppled to the floor trying to kick his shoes off. Never had he felt so thoroughly frozen or numb. Not that he was complaining. He wiggled out of his wet coat and began the struggle of ripping his damp sweater over his head. Jay had thrown himself at his suitcase, trying to undress and open it up at the same time. “Clothes. Dry clothes,” he whimpered when the zipper kept dropping from his shaking fingers. Nick went to his own bag to find something to where. The lack of the wet sweater was definitely an improvement, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed standing like a hairless, shivering, drowned ferret in the middle of the room.

  
Jay let out a pitiful cry of triumphant when he finally hacked into his suitcase. He threw shirts out carelessly, the air exploding in materials from colorful silk to worn cotton. Even though he was in the middle of trying to save his own ass from hypothermia, Nick couldn’t help but pause when Jay violently ripped off his own shirt and pants before (unfortunately) hiding his body in flannel bottoms and a t-shirt. Well, hiding his body wasn’t really a fair description. That t-shirt wasn’t hiding _anything_.

  
“So, I guess I’ll take the window seat,” Nick chattered, rubbing lamely at his arms to reinvigorate them.

  
“What?” Jay’s popped up from where he was collecting his shirts off of the floor.

  
“Well, you’re the guest, I’m not going to make you sleep on the window seat.”

  
Jay dropped his armful of shirts into his suitcase and walked until he was directly in front of Nick. Still shivering and his own teeth chattering with each word, he asked, “What?” Nick didn’t know how he could be more clear. And thinking when Jay was practically bearing over him was nearly impossible. He gulped and tried to shift towards the window.

  
“Don’t worry about it. It’s as comfortable as a bed. I’ve fallen asleep while reading there loads of times. I’ll be alright.”

  
Jay laughed and shook his head, “No way. No way you’re sleeping next to _sub-zero glass_ when you’re already a Nicksicle.” He flopped onto the bed and kicked back the covers, patting the spot next to him. “Come on, we’ll huddle like penguins. Y’know, generate our own heat.”

  
Nick went a whole new shade of red when Jay mentioned generating their own heat... _while sitting on a bed_. Not a bed, his bed! Every single warning light was going off inside, every alarm, every danger sign. Nick looked back to the window seat and the dark, ice covered window. Then he looked back to Jay, surrounded by pillows and blankets, already looking a thousand times warmer. Oh what the hell. It’s not like they hadn’t slept in the same bed before. True, Nick had been unconscious, but how different could it be?

  
It could be very different. Nick snuggled down next to Jay, who brought up the hoard of blankets to meet them. Immediately, Jay entangled himself with Nick, hugging to him tight. Nick buried himself in the crook of Jay’s neck, allowing his legs to become wrapped up in Jay’s. Dear god, he was was freezing. He jumped when Jay’s toes touched him.

  
“Sorry,” Jay muttered when Nick jerked suddenly. He rubbed his back and arms quickly, trying to warm him up to make up for his ice gremlin toes. Nick relaxed against Jay’s chest, letting the repetition of Jay’s arm lull him to a sort of blissful coma. He willed his mind to stop thinking for once. He was going to enjoy this and wouldn’t let anyone ruin it for him, not even himself. But ignoring that prick of excitement at the back of his head that came whenever he was close to Jay wouldn’t calm down. In fact, it had never gone so off the charts crazy before. Seeing Jay’s chest and the curve of his thighs was a much different experience than being plastered against them. Nick sighed, slipping his arms around Jay and let his body go lax. He had never been close enough to smell Jay before and _dear lord_ . Could he get that as a candle? This was a very dangerous situation he had gotten himself into. Should he slip up at all, should he accidentally sniff Jay or...get too excited, there would be no recovering from that.

  
“Pull away you fool!” his mind screamed at him, “Pull away and you’ll be safe!” His body, however, deliberately declined the order, even shifting into a more comfortable position against Jay. It was too cold outside their cocoon for him to pull away. And there was nothing unsafe about Jay’s arm. They were secure, firm yet inviting. HIs body was surprisingly soft, contrary to what Nick had imagined it to be. Then again, whenever Nick did imagine it (he tried very hard not to), it was in a slightly different situation. No, not smart to think about that. Especially when certain parts may or may not be pressed against the top of someone’s thigh.

  
Jay had stopped rubbing at Nick back, but had not removed his hands. One of which had idly traveled it’s way up to the nape of Nick’s neck, fingers slipping in and out of his hair. Nick sighed one last time and tried to resign his mind to sleep. Surprisingly, sleep found him easier than expected. The rise and fall of Jay’s chest rocked him, the gentle thudding of his heart sang to him. His own body had melted, the cold of earlier long forgotten, but the ache of a whole day making his limbs too heavy to move. “This must be heaven,” he mused silently, his mind finally shutting down.

  
“Old Sport?” Dammit. Nick didn’t answer. If it was really important, Jay would try again.

  
“Old Sport?” Nick hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m just getting the lamp, ok?”

  
He frowned when the solid body beneath him slipped away, but he didn’t mind it so much when the light was finally gone, no more tormenting his eyelids. Since they were both warm now, Nick supposed it was time to grow up and scoot over to his own side of the bed. Afterall, it had been years since he had slept with a teddy bear and while Jay was so much more than that, it was still time to sleep on his own.

  
There was no chance for scooting, though. Jay pulled him back to chest, assuming their position from before. Nick swallowed his cry of joy, instead placing his head back to where he could hear the lub-dub of Jay’s heart.

* * *

 

The next morning, Nick woke up to sun in his eyes and an empty bed. Now, he couldn’t be sure which cause was guilty of waking him: the light or the absence of a body next to him….or maybe it was the series of loud crashes coming from somewhere in the room. Nick groggily forced himself up. Jay, already fully dressed and ready to go for the day, was leaning a little too unnaturally against the bedpost to be casual.

  
“Good morning!” He greeted, light strain in his voice.

  
“What did you do?”

  
“Do? I didn’t do anything! I definitely didn’t try to take a book off your shelf to look at it a bring out a couple more books than I intended because they’re so tightly packed!”

  
Nick swiveled his head to the bookcase just across from where Jay was posed. One of the shelves had books that had been haphazardly tossed back on. What started out as a slight huff of air through his nose grew into a full body laugh, Nick crumpling back onto the bed. “Why didn't you just wake me up,” he cried, wiping a very real tear from his eye.

  
Jay looked sheepishly down at his feet, before looking back up to grin at Nick. “You looked so peaceful.” It was a good thing his face was already red from laughing. Nick basked in his smile for all of two seconds before scoffing at the comment. This territory was becoming more and more dangerous. And it was only day two. Fuck.

  
“Why are you up so early, anyhow?” Nick grumbled, crawling out of bed to get dressed himself.

  
“Shopping!” Jay announced with a laugh, “It wasn’t until I got here that I realised that I have no Christmas presents. It’s Christmas Eve, thus, emergency shopping spree.”

  
“The closest stores are cheesy shops in town,” Nick winced. Not exactly the highbrow kind of area Jay was used to. Unless moose mugs, log bears, and badly knit sweaters were highbrow now. Jay just shrugged, smile still in place.

  
“I’ll take what I can get. I’m pretty good at rare finds,” he smirked.

  
“Alright, we’ll go,” Nick disappeared to the bathroom, “but breakfast first!”

  
Much to Jay’s chagrin, they did go to breakfast first, but Nick would absolutely not excuse skipping breakfast. At least, he knew his parents wouldn’t. There were somethings that you just didn’t skip out on, and “family time” was one of them. Still, even annoyance couldn’t keep Jay from playing the part. It had passed unsettling, the way he meshed with his family so easily, more easily than he had ever done. Now it felt more of a private joke between them, a challenge to see who would break first. Jay would glance at Nick across the table whenever there was a lull in the conversation. He would cock his eyebrow ever so slightly that would go unnoticed had Nick not kept his eyes trained on him. His eyes would flash playfully before he went back to discussing the last gala he attended with Mrs. Carraway. Nick would have to focus on his oatmeal before he gave Jay’s secret away.

  
Once out of the house, Jay breathed out a dramatic, gargling sigh. “Sure, I can admit your ‘cabin’ is pretty,” Jay rolled his eyes at the word cabin, “But it’s impossible to breathe normal in there. There are too many ghosts watching me!” Again with the ghosts! Nick scooped up a handful of snow and carelessly tossed it at Jay.

  
“No ghosts!”

* * *

 

The town consisted of only one main street, decked out with gaudy wreaths and signs announcing holiday sales. As Nick had predicted, they passed by several log bears with Santa hangs places jauntily over one ear, and at least three stores boasting of sweaters made with love and care. Everything was so dated it was highly possible that they had accidentally fallen in a wormhole that sent back to 1992.

  
“I don’t know what you’re gonna be able to find,” Nick hummed, eyes lazily scanning over the array of smiling wooden animals in front of him and not at all drifting over to Jay much too often. Jay ignored Nick’s comment, instead laughing stupidly at one bear which was winking and holding a sign that said “Hey Honey”. Dear God he was in love with an idiot. Jay went back to stand by Nick and slid an arm around his waist. Nick blushed and tried to hide his face from any passerby that might recognize him. Jay didn’t notice the elevated casual intimacy.

  
“I’m thinking we go in and check anyways. If worse comes to worse we can buy the honey bear.” Connected at the hip, they pursued the store, and every other store thereafter. Nick was decently surprised at Jay’s gift finding abilities. Especially when he was given so little to work with. So far, they had collected a fine new hockey stick for Joey, a set of vintage pens for his father, a n antique brooch for his mother, and several other knick knacks that could be given away as back up gifts if any other family members were to show up.

  
“I’m starving. Are you starving?” Nick groaned, leaning against Jay as they walked back to wherever they had parked the car, arms loaded with bags. To make his point clearer, his stomach gave a gurgle, whimpering like a wounded animal. Jay laughed once before pulling Nick even tighter to his side.

  
“I can tell!” He squeezed before loosening his grip. “Alright. Let’s get some food in you. I think there’s a cafe up head anyways.”

  
The cozy cafe was a welcome change of scenery after traversing the icy sidewalks for several hours. It seemed they weren’t the only ones in the mood for food. The cafe was more than a little cramped, but they were able to squeeze their way in. After shimmying through the crowd, they landed at a corner table where they could finally set down their bags. Nick slumped in the seat and let out a drawn-out moan. True, the cold was nothing compared to yesterday. He could still partially feel his legs, so not as bad, right? All he knew is that he didn’t want to go back out in the cold for at least a solid hour. Even if it meant that he may be crushed to death by the amount of patrons huddled in the cafe with him.

  
“You good to wait here and order?” Jay asked, readjusting his scarf.

  
“Sure. Why, you going somewhere?” Crazy man.

  
Jay grinned and nodded. “I couldn’t very well get your Christmas present while you were with me!” Nick blathered at that, spouting nonsense vowels while going redder than poinsettias. He tried to stammer that he didn’t need a gift, that Jay just being there with him was a gift enough, but Jay had already worked his way out to the door.

  
A present. For him. It wasn’t unusual or out of the blue. They had been friends for months now, and roommates for longer. A Christmas present wasn’t uncalled for or odd. There was no underlying message to be read. Jay had gotten presents for everyone else: it would be weirder if he got Nick nothing. Still. It was a present. A present from Jay. Nick buried his face in his hands. He was being ridiculous, putting too much substance into nothing. Hadn’t he told himself from the get-go to not entertain any ideas like this? Jay saw him as a friend, and for Nick to take his actions for anything other than friendship would just be awkward.

  
But Nick was certain friends do not hold friends the way Jay held him last night. So maybe he wasn’t crazy, maybe there was something there in Jay’s side after all. He could feel it, in the way Jay constantly sought out physical contact with him, in the way he would hold Nick, in his laugh, in his tolerance, in the fierce look in his eye whenever they spoke of Nick’s father. All that couldn’t be ignored, right? Nick, despite what others may think, had had friends before. Perhaps not as close as he and Jay, but maybe that was because he and Jay weren’t your average friends. What if Jay saw them as more than friends and Nick wasn’t picking up the signals? Nick had to get out of his head. This thinking was far too hopeful. Jay could never see him in that way. He went up to the counter to finally order some coffee and a couple sandwiches. Still the thought persisted. Had he made all this up just now or was there substance behind it? He couldn’t be sure. When Jay got back, he would pay extra attention and see if it really was all in his head or not. He prepared himself for the inevitably that he had most likely runaway with his imagination.

  
Nick became more skittish as time went by. 20 minutes. A half hour. 45 minutes. An hour. Still, Jay didn’t show up. The sandwich Nick had gotten for him like neglected on its plate. He switched back and forth between his phone and staring out the window, watching for any sign of his friend. Most of the other patrons had cleared out by now, lunchtime passing. An hour and a half after he left, Jay cane bursting back through the door, dusted in snow.

  
“Hey!” He beamed at Nick, settling down in the chair next to him. Jay hummed appreciatively when he spotted the sandwich in front of him and tucked in quickly and before Nick could ask him where the hell he had been. Nick flicked a crumb for something other to do than stare at Jay while he ate. “Great taste, Old Sport,” Jay swallowed and leaned back in the chair, shedding his coat, “Thanks.”

  
“Why did you take so long?” Nick bursted, skipping pleasantries. Jay sat back up straight, face a little panicked.

  
“You’re a hard person to shop for,” he excused quickly before leaning forward, “Why, did something happen?”

  
Nick blushed and look down into his empty coffee cup, “No,” he muttered, hoping Jay wouldn’t hear him, “I just...missed you, I guess.” He refuses to look up at Jay, especially when his grumble was met with a few seconds of silence. Jay’s head hit the table with a thunk, making Nick nearly jump out of his seat.

  
“Oh my god!” He laughed into his arms before titling his face up to look at Nick. His own cheeks were a lovely shade of pink, but Nick didn’t know if it was from the cold, or from laughing, or, god forbid, himself. “You’re so damn cute! You looked like a kicked puppy, I was so scared something happened for a second!” He sniggered. Nick had to hide his face in his hands, Jay only laughing a little louder. He called him cute. The scene from Rudolph played in his head. Nick felt like he could jump out of the chair and fly around, yelling “I’m cute! I’m cute! He said I’m cute!”

  
Nick tried to trick Jay into revealing what Jay had gotten him, a lack of a bag piquing his interest. Jay shook off the attempts, but gave in when Nick begged to play twenty questions. Jay smirked as he took his sweet time finishing his coffee and sandwich while Nick struggled to sleuth out his present. So far all he had figured out was that it wasn’t small enough to fit in a pocket, contrary to the evidence. That was it. 18 questions all he could figure out was the size.

  
“Did you even buy anything just now?” Nick flung his hands up in defeat.

  
“Yes,” Jay smirked, cheeks pinkening slightly, “But I guess it was more, selfish than I let on. More futile definitely.”

  
“Futile?” If it was possible, Nick was even more lost than before.

  
“Yeah. I won’t need it, I just thought, in case...but I won’t need it….” Jay refused to look Nick in the eye as he spoke, finishing up his coffee.

  
“What, like a back-up present?”

  
Jay choked on his drink, looking like he was about to snort coffee out of his nose from laughing mid sip, “Sure,” he coughed, a wry smile adorning his face, “A back up present.”

  
Nick let Jay down the rest of his drink in silence, mulling over the information in his head. He was almost certain that Jay was up to something. He normally wasn’t so secretive. There was a surprise coming, and prepared or not, Nick couldn’t wait to find out what it was. Ready to once again brave the cold, the two gathered their array of bags and headed out. Nick had already begun his observation of Jay. He wasn’t staring at him more than usual. Staring at Jay was something he had already mastered: the side glance, the quick look away, etc. Now he had a reason behind it all other than Jay was pretty to look at. Jay was acting as normal, if not a little more tense than before. More nervous than fake. What had he been doing that caused this shift? Oh, he was hiding something alright, and Nick was going to find out what. After all, what harm could it do? They were already stuck with his family for the holidays, it wasn’t as if things could get any worse than that.

  
He was wrong. Nick was so awfully, completely wrong. It was only day two and things were about to become so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s here! Christmas Eve day. I wonder how Christmas Eve will go. 
> 
> I know that some of you like to hunt for hints within the chapters. All I can say is that there are a few things in this chapter that set up for the next one (pay special attention to the title ;))
> 
> Also, please pardon any mistakes. As always, I spend exactly no time editing. But feel free to comment! Even if it’s just to say hi!


	19. ...Of Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick’s aunt and uncle are dicks, literally. Secrets are revealed. Relationships advance. Schemes are hatched. I may or may not have cried while writing certain parts of this.

Home after almost a full day of shopping was such a relief. Well, Nick had looked forward to relief. But really, how much relief could be found in a Carraway household? Especially during the holidays.

  
“Hey Old Sport?”

  
“Yeah?” Nick hummed, looking over the variety of gifts one last time and thinking of how they could be wrapped quickly.

  
“Was that car here before we left?”

  
Nick looked up through the windshield indifferently. It was entirely possible. His family had a mini fleet of expensive vehicles. However, he had to take a second look because that car was certainly a new addition to the driveway. At least, Nick didn’t recognize it. Had his parents wasted money on another car? Not likely. They were rich, not frivolous.

  
“No, I don’t think it was,” he said slowly, hurrying out of the car. Jay slipped after him, sliding around dangerously on the icy steps that Nick had taken two at a time. Could it be? Of course it was, who else could it be? How stupid was he to forget about them? This was going to make the holiday season so much harder.

  
“Old Sport! What’s wrong?” Jay nearly crashed into Nick on the top step. Nick’s hand was resting on the handle, a frown adorning his face.

  
“Did I ever tell you about Aunt and Uncle Carraway?”

  
“No,” Jay sputtered, “I think that detail slipped our attention!”

  
Nick winced up at Jay. “Well, I’m sorry, in advance.” He turned the handle.

  
If Nick’s own parents were bad, they were nothing compared to aunt and uncle Carraway. They were entirely their own different breed of human. Aunt Carraway made sure that everybody’s business was her business. She traded in secrets, lies and gossip. Anything that could ruin a person, she was the first to know, and the first to blather. Uncle Carraway was rather well suited for her. He was a large man, brash in manners and obnoxious in opinions. His ideas has to be everyone’s ideas, if not, you were a threat. They were a snobbish couple, and had never been close to tasting poverty and didn’t care for anyone who had. In their own minds, they were the best of the best. Only royalty could be fit to associate with them. An odious couple. However, their daughter was considerably lovely considering how she might’ve turned out with them as parents. She still had her faults, as everyone does, but when one thought of Daisy Carraway, one couldn’t possibly think of fault.

  
From the moment he opened the door, he could hear the boom of his Uncle’s voice from a nearby parlor. Nick wanted to shrink in on himself. Sure, his childhood had been a sort of purgatory on a regular basis but it was this man, this man and woman who had the ability to make it a veritable hell.

  
“Merry Christmas,” Nick groaned, resigning himself inside the house.

  
“We could just skip up to your room if you want,” Jay whispered, placing his hand gently in the small of Nick’s back. Nick shied away from the touch. His unfortunate relatives read into every little detail and jumped to the absolute worst conclusions. Unless Nick wanted to become a permanent pariah, there was to be no touching. Even the slightest glance could be interpreted as sex through their eyes.

  
“No, that’ll just seem like we’re hiding something. And that’s the last thing I need any of them to think,” he hissed, setting his shoulders straight, “Come on. Let’s just get it over with.”

  
It was the same parlor that Jay had first met Nick’s parents in. The fireplace was roaring once more, only there was a little more commotion happening this time around.

  
“Well, that’s what I told Carter,” his Uncle sniffed, toying around with one of the trinkets on the mantelpiece. Nick’s mother visibly flinched as me messed up her careful display. “It’s got to be brute force with those people. It’s the only thing they understand! Even if they’ve got to beat and jail every single last one of ‘em!” His uncle stopped talking abruptly, noticing that two more people had joined their party.

  
“Nick, is that your boy?” His uncle scoffed, gesturing to his nephew, “It can’t be! He looks more like a girl than a man! All arms and legs. Where’s the muscle? Where’s the spirit? Thought it was some sad excuse of a scarecrow that wandered in at first. Are you certain he’s yours?” Richard Carraway guffawed, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. Mr. Carraway glared quickly in his namesake direction, his son’s very existence now a source of offense to him.

  
“No, that’s...my boy,” his father said coldly, brushing off his brother’s large hand.

  
“And that thing lurking behind him?”

  
“That’s Jay,” Mr. Carraway perked up a little, “a friend of Nick’s staying over for the holiday. He’s quite the prodigy in his family’s firm. He’s already gone international,” Both Carraway men looked Jay over like a fine piece of meat to be acquired. Nick looked down and sucked in sharply. The harsh words of his father and uncle always stung, but praising Jay so readily was just pouring lemon juice over the cuts. He bit the inside of his cheek, not trusting himself to let go. There was a strong chance he might whimper, or perhaps begin to tremble. Jay tried to get his attention, tried to reach out to him, but Nick shooed him away. Absolutely no contact.

  
“Jay?” A hoarsely silent voice piped up. A head popped out around from one of the large armchairs facing the fire. A pair of bright eyes gleamed in curiosity, the soft, husky words enlivening the senses. “It is you!” Daisy jumped out of her chair and trotted over to enwrap both Nick and Jay in a large hug. “I haven’t seen either of you since Halloween and you promised me you would visit!” she pouted.

  
Jay let out a genuine laugh as he returned the hug. “I’ll be damned!” He whispered between the three of them, “Daisy! Nick never told me you were going to be here!”

  
Nick shook his head and laughed a little too. “I had no idea!” In truth, it had completely slipped his mind that Daisy might show up. He was...preoccupied.

  
Daisy patted Nick’s cheek. “What a kidder! I always come for Christmas,” she winked at Jay.

  
“So, you’re already acquainted?” Daisy’s mother mused, inching to the edge of her seat a little. She wasn’t used to being left out on important details. It didn’t sit well with her.

  
“Nick brought Jay to the Halloween party! He’s such a charmer. There wasn’t a person there that didn’t automatically love him!” Daisy announced for the room.

  
Jay hung his head in mock modesty. Nick stood by his side, forgotten in the light of this shiny new toy for the Carraways to play with. And Jay indulged them. He allowed them to preen over him, and he seemed to enjoy it, playing the part well. All while Nick watched from the side. Even with his blonde hair and ready smile, so contrary to the rest of them, he was more Carraway than Nick had ever been. Nick felt his own light, which had been steadily building during the afternoon, begin to flicker out, outshined by the brilliance of Jay. He didn’t even mention he was going to put the presents away: he just exited the parlor, bags bouncing off his legs. It wasn’t as if anyone had a spare ear to hear him anyways.

  
Like the halls he wandered to reach his room in exile, he was hollow. Each step vibrated throughout his empty being, echoing softly in the cool corridors. He didn’t see where he was going. All he could see where his father’s eyes on repeat, gleaming with pride over Jay. That was a look Nick had never known. What was he to be proud of anyways? He had no part in raising Jay. He barely even knew him! And here he was, claiming Jay as the crown jewel of his acquaintances, proud of himself for having met him.

  
Nick paused in his step, his autopilot failing for a second. For the first time in a long time, he sagged, the weight of an age old pain returning to press down upon his shoulders. Jay had kept the pain away for so long...but now...now he was just helping his family to bring it back. Of all his Christmases and days locked up in this god awful lodge, Nick had never felt so devastatingly alone as he did now. Maybe because he hadn’t been alone to start with. But how long could it all have lasted anyways. Nick was the weakest link of them all. Of course Jay would want a stronger connection than the most obscure Carraway. That’s what it was all about. The connections.

  
The bags were slipping from his limp fingers, about to crash onto the stairs where he had paused. Let them. Nick shuddered, trying to shake the weight that had sealed itself upon his mind. It had never worked before and it didn’t work now. There were only two people who could lift away that weight, and they were currently preoccupied with each other down in one of the parlors. Once again, it was up to Nick to fix himself, only he had no idea how. The weight was becoming too much, he couldn’t even move. It was shoving him downwards, even to his knees. He could feel himself sinking, but he didn’t know if it was in his mind or in reality. It was so hard to tell sometimes.

  
“Nick?”

  
He turned slowly at the sound of his name. A rather hesitant Ruth stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring questioningly at her hunched over brother. Nick dropped the bags all the way and ran down the stairs to meet her. He tackled her in a tight embrace, folding in on himself to hug the shorter girl.

  
“You’re here,” he muffled into her shoulder, willing any tears to stay in his eyes.

  
She laughed softly, and rubbed his back. “Of course I’m here! What, I would skip a chance to see you and mess with Dad?”

  
He pulled away after a while, wiping quickly at his eyes. “I just thought, after Thanksgiving…” Ruth reached up for his hands and held them tightly between her own.

  
“Hey,” she whispered, “Don't even worry about it.” Nick fell back onto her shoulder, a subtle relief flowing through him. Only subtle. They stood that way for a few minutes. No talking, just existing. Ruth only pulled away after Nick had begun to breathe steadily again.

  
“So, I’m guessing it hasn’t been going well,” she cocked a sympathetic eyebrow.

  
“No, no,” he assured her, “It’s been fine,” he sighed, nervously reaching up to tug at the hair traveling down the nape of his neck.

  
“Until?” Ruth prodded, sensing that Nick wasn’t sharing the whole truth with her.

  
“Uncle Richard and Aunt Heidi,” Nick muttered, “Forgot they were going to be here.”

  
Ruth pursed her lips and scowled in the direction of the parlor. “Right, Dick,” she grumbled. Ruth squeezed his shoulder knowingly. She had had her own fair share of run-ins with the man as well, albeit more publically. “Do you want to go raid the kitchen? I know for a fact that they’re starting to prepare Christmas Eve dinner.” Nick found some way to laugh at that, even it more closely resembled a hiccup. He shook his head and gestured vaguely behind him.

  
“Can’t. I’ve got wrapping to do.” Ruth peered around him at the cheap plastic bags still in a crumpled heap at the top of the stairs.

  
“Did-did you get your presents in town?” Her eyebrows rose in a concerned sort of disdain. It was an idiot move, she just didn’t think Nick would ever make that idiot move.

  
“Please, I’m not that oblivious. Those are Jay’s bags. I told him he didn’t need to get anything but he felt bad about not having-”

  
“Wait, Jay?” Ruth’s face lit up as she swiveled back around to grin crookedly at Nick. He could see the cogs in her head begin to turn, the flicker of old film reeling with her rampant imagination. He could see the situation play out through her eyes like some sort of bad porno. Two friends realize their deeper feelings for one another and things get steamy as they try to stay warm during the cold winter nights. He shook his head quickly, mainly to get rid of a rather specific image of Jay. That couldn’t and wouldn’t ever happen. If the situation presented itself, it wasn’t as if he would say no, but the situation would never present itself. And it was this specific type of pathetic hope he was trying to avoid during this trip. No it was better he quell both her and his thoughts on the subject before either of them got the wrong idea. And before she had the chance to hatch some awful matchmaking scheme.

  
“It’s not like you think,” Nick sighed, fidgeting with his hands, “Jay couldn’t go home for Christmas so I suggested that he come home with me last minute. Y’know, because that’s what good friends do for each other and that’s what we are. Good friends.”

  
Ruth nodded, wicked smile just barely masked for Nick’s sake. “And where is he staying?”

  
“...In my room.”

  
An unbelieving laugh escaped from her body full force and she clapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh my god! Are you serious?” He could see the bow-chicka-wow-wow type track already playing in her head. Nick rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the heat from seeping into his cheeks. Why even bother? Well, because his extremely homophobic family were all trapped together and he couldn’t have Ruth teasing him about this or trying to set him and Jay up. That’s why it bothered. He gently brushed past her while pleading with his eyes for her to drop the subject. She nodded, but the smirk remained on her face. Hopefully he could trust her not to meddle. He didn’t want a possible repeat of Thanksgiving. Any part of it.

  
Jay came up to the room much later, most of the presents already wrapped. Except, he wasn’t alone like Nick had been hoping. Earlier had bugged him, but it wasn’t Jay’s fault. He knew that. All he wanted was to...he didn’t know, talk? Possibly even have Jay hold him like he had last night, but was only a fantasy. A very unlikely one, especially when Mrs. Carraway followed Jay into the room.

  
“So sorry we didn’t have a room ready for you last night,” she was in the middle of saying, “But we have one for you now. It’s just down the hall, and one of our nicest,” she added proudly. Nick, who had curled up on the window seat with a copy of _A Christmas Carol_ rather than go back downstairs, froze at the statement. It shouldn’t be shocking. It was only natural that his parents would hurry as fast as humanly possible to get Jay into his own room rather than have him share a bed with another man. Despite the hand reality seemed so desperate to deal him, he didn’t want Jay to leave. He didn’t belong down the hall, he belonged here with him! Still, he didn’t dare try to interject into the conversation.

  
“Really, it’s too kind of you Mrs. Carraway,” Jay smiled, collecting his things to take to his new room. He beamed at Nick, who looked a rather morbid statue when framed against the harsh landscape through the window. “Hey, where’ve you been?”

  
Nick’s mother looked to the window and seemed shocked to see Nick there. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if she had forgotten about her other son in all the Jay mania. Jay waited, still crouched by his suitcase, waiting for Nick to answer. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

  
“Um, reading. Been reading,” he muttered, turning back to the book, the words meaningless hieroglyphics on the page now. Jay still didn’t move. Nick’s icy response confused him, to say the least. Hadn’t they just spent a magnificent day together, and now here he was, physically folding into himself and brushing Jay off. Jay sucked in some air to speak but Mrs. Carraway spoke before he did.

  
“Well, come along dear. Your room is waiting,” she whisked out of the room. Jay hesitated just a second before heaving his suitcase out the door after her. Nick frowned, the words continuing to blur, making any attempt at reading useless. Dear. She called him dear.

  
The afternoon should have been an omen for how the rest of the evening was going to go down. But despite all his book learning, Nick missed all the signs urging him to stay in his room that night. Even a stern lecture from his father about family the next morning would’ve been preferable. But how could he have known that when he descended the stairs that evening, all done up to look his casual best (there was no such thing as comfortably casual with the Carraways).

  
First, Nick would have to survive dinner. No easy task. He blindly adjusted his hair one last time before walking silently into the dining room. Luckily, he wasn’t late. One point for Nick. Jay waved a little when he entered and gave a cheeky wink. He hadn’t seen Nick since the room switch and if their interaction was anything to go off of, then Nick was in need of some emergency cheer.Nick kept his stiff posture, but a smile slipped onto his lips. Nick went to his typical seat, Jay following close behind to sit next to him, but Mr. Carraway caught him by the arm.

  
“Jay why don’t you sit next to Daisy?” Mr. Carraway hummed, gesturing to the empty seat between Daisy and Ruth. Nick looked down at his own decadent plate, disappointment welling up inside him. It wasn’t as if Jay could say no. He had no say in the matter now that he was another one of his father’s pawns for him to move around and play other as he pleased. Once again, Jay hesitated by Nick’s side before doing as instructed. Nick kept his face down, as to not expose any emotions that might surface. He reminded himself once again that it wasn’t Jay’s fault and he was just doing what Nick wanted him to do: getting his parents to like him. But as Jay sat between an all too excited and blushing Daisy, he felt his heart on the verge of bursting. He didn’t care if his parents liked Jay or even him anymore. He just wanted...him. Nick busied himself with his napkin if just to distract himself from that pain he had been feeling since that afternoon.

  
Ridiculous. Jay wasn’t his to demand about or to horde or to claim. He was very aware of that fact. But no matter how many times he reprimanded himself, reminding himself of the truth, he couldn’t make the swelling of his throat nor the pricking of his eyes go away. _Jay is not yours. Jay is not yours._ Daisy laughed, hand placed gently on Jay’s shoulder as her lyrical, whispering laugh dancing across the table. Jay smiled back, proud to have made Daisy laughed. Genuinely smiled. Nick dropped his head back even farther as the first course was brought to the table.

  
Was he dying? It felt like it. The chatter from around the table pinpricked his skin, slowly eating their way to his bleeding heart. Once again he was the silent Carraway, the odd nephew that kept so well to himself it was impossible to decipher if he indeed had limbs or if they were just insanely tight against his body. He could trust himself to speak, fearing what might come out of his rampant thoughts. If prompted, it was more than likely a series of squeaks would escape rather than words. Any hope of coherent thought was out the window. Several times he caught himself staring, a usual occurrence with Jay around. He couldn’t help it. The glitter of the chandeliers dances across his sculpted face, his glow only increased by his brilliant smile.

  
He made it through soups and the main course without having to utter anything, just pick at his dinner. But Uncle Dick wouldn’t be satisfied until his nephew had been picked on, even if everyone else was too busy becoming enamored with Jay.

  
“So, nephew,” Dick swallowed and jabbed his fork in Nick’s direction, “What have you been up to now that you’re out and about? The Ivy League treating you well?” Nobody cared about the new conversation being sparked up, everyone else, excepting Ruth, listening to Daisy’s detailed recollection of the Christmas Gala she had just attended. Unbeknownst to Nick, Jay inclined his head a little ways away from Daisy, listening intently to Nick and his uncle. It took only a few seconds with the man to discover he was an odious type of person with a penchant for scandals, not unlike his wife.

  
“Why yes, Uncle it has. Certainly keeps me busy,” Nick jumped when he had been addressed but regrouped himself to call across to the other end of the table over Daisy.

  
“And what was it you were studying?”

  
“Well, the first year is mostly general ed classes, so I haven’t had much chance to jump into my major yet.”

  
“But you will be going into business when the time comes?” Dick sucked at a string of ham stuck in between his teeth.

  
Nick swallowed his grimace and nodded, “That’s what Father wants.”

  
“Nick also writes for the newspaper.” The rest of the table quieter down, only now becoming aware of a side conversation going on when Jay spoke up. Both Nick and his Uncle turned in surprise to Jay, whose arm was still draped across the back of Daisy’s chair. He had taken advantage of one of her dramatic pauses to jump in. Everyone waited for someone to continue. Nick shook his head, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. He could only guess how his Uncle might interpret Jay sticking up for him. He had played the part of dutiful suck up so well so far; Nick wasn’t worth wasting all his hard work on.

  
“Jay, what-”

  
“I’ve read some of his work. His pieces are amazing. Really stand out. And I don’t need to tell anyone here what a prestigious institution our school paper is. I wouldn’t be surprised at all to see Nick succeed in a more literary profession,” Jay finished his little speech with a small sip of wine and a rather harsh smile directed in Uncle Carraway’s direction. Nick was mortified. Jay had blown it by siding with Nick. No one in their right mind would side with Nick. He would be exposed as a fraud to the rest of the family. No more Gentleman Gatsby. Uncle Carraway chewed on his lip, eyes narrowing at Jay. Jay didn’t shy away from the growing glare. Mr. Carraway clicked his tongue thoughtfully. Everyone turned to him like a group of spectators at a tennis match. The ball was now in Nick Sr.’s court.

  
“Yes, I believe Nick mentioned something about the newspaper this last Thanksgiving. We’re flattered by your praise of our...son, Jay, but Nick knows well that this is merely a pastime. When the time comes, he will need to take over the family business,” Mr. Carraway spoke softly to Jay, letting him know subtly of everyone’s place in the house, as well as his. He then turned to Nick, his eyes hardening with disapproval immediately for some unfathomable reason. He probably blamed Nick for Jay’s small outburst, if one could even call it that. He would find some way to accuse Nick of the disturbance: perhaps he had bribed Jay before dinner to boast about him. Nick wouldn’t put it past his father. His parents weren’t exactly rational people.

  
“There will be no time for silly stories,” His father spoke to the room, but his face made it known to Nick it was a special reminder for him. Uncle Dick seemed satisfied with himself but kept a close eye on both Nick and Jay through a small dessert course, occasionally picking at his teeth.

  
Only one last part to Christmas Eve, then Nick could escape to the security of his room. Dinner was a close call, and he would still probably hear about it later. Still, he was still alive so far. A little beaten, a little bruised, more than a little tired. But if he couldn’t make it through Christmas Eve, there was no chance of survival during Christmas Day. However, Nick had a feeling this next part was going to be easier than dinner. All it was, was a little brandy for the adults, a little socializing, and a reading from Luke 2 since there was no mass nearby for their family to attend. Even though they claimed to be devout, this was as religious as the holiday ever got for the family.

  
The group traveled to another parlor, a different one from before, the one with the Christmas tree and presents. A fire had already been started underneath a mantle bedecked with garlands and stockings. The adults claimed the armchairs, leaving everyone else to either stand or sit on the brick fireplace. Nick went over to stand by the sparkling twelve foot evergreen, eyes swimming in red and gold baubles. Ever so subtly, some fingers wrapped themselves in the fabric of his sweater. He turned to find Jay, standing not an inch away from him, taking in the glory of the tree.

  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t sit by you at dinner,” Jay whispered, hand clasping more solidly around Nick’s elbow. Relief swept through him at the touch and his proximity to Jay. He was an addict and Jay was his fix. Nick no longer looked at the tree, but beamed at Jay, drinking in every angle, every curve of his face. His eyes stared with a reverent hunger at the gracefully upturned lips, the dip of his collar bones visible through his cashmere sweater, the sweet alabaster skin of his neck, turned so carelessly in exposition before Nick’s eyes.

  
“It’s no problem,” Nick whispered back, willing Jay to move his hand further down so that he could intertwine it with his own. He felt himself physically leaning forward into the warmth Jay’s presence offered. Jay looked away from the tree, grinning to find Nick so close to his own face. All he need do was lean in a little farther to finally discover just how warm, just how soft those lips would be. Those radiant, pink lips, that twitched ever so slightly as Nick gazed awestruck at them.

  
“Jay! Jay, come sit here.” The two of the jumped, not quite forgotten in their little corner by the Christmas tree. Nick backed away from Jay, reality screaming back into his mind. His family was gathered around the fireplace and would by no means be oblivious to any sort of action between him and Jay. What the hell had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t been thinking. That was evident. It was those damn lips. They had never looked so kissable before, but maybe that was the dim light, or the sweet scent of chocolate from dessert drawing him in. Damn it.

  
“Jay!” Daisy called again and patted the brick next to her in front of the fire. She knew just how to position herself to make the shadows flicker attractively in her curls and dance just so to flatter her round face. Jay’s gaze flickered once back to Nick, who probably looked like a kicked puppy at having Jay taken away from him, before nodding and joking Daisy on the fireplace, smile intact. Nick swallowed and rubbed at the back of his neck, disturbing the careful arrangement of his hair. He coughed and felt his face heating up. Hopefully he could pretend it was because of the fire. He wandered over to Ruth and sat on the arm of the chair that she had managed to commandeer. She patted his thigh sympathetically, probably a full witness to the fleeting interaction between Nick and Jay. Nick sighed and leaned into her side as much as the chair allowed him. At times like this, it was nice to have your big sister.

  
Everyone had settled down now, the adults had their brandy and everyone waited for Mr. Carraway to pull out his near pristine copy of the New Testament. Nick stared at a spot on the aging rug, preparing himself for a good chunk of not paying attention. He had just resigned himself to his father’s recital, and so had everyone else, when Aunt Heidi squealed. A squeal by itself is unpleasant, but coming from the middle aged dragon it somehow became ten times worse. Nick looked up from his chosen rug swirl to see what Heidi was squawking at now. She pointed her overly long acrylics towards Daisy and Jay, poised so prettily against the backdrop of flame. Not at the couple themselves, but rather, what hung over their heads.

  
“Mistletoe you two!” She smirked, “You know the rules!” The breath caught sharply in Nick’s throat, and Uncle Dick tilted his head slightly in his direction in annoyance. His vision blurred the longer he looked unblinkingly at the scene. Daisy and Jay, sitting so close to one another that their knees bumped as they looked above their heads to spy what was indeed a sprig of mistletoe. Daisy played the part of coy school girl very well. She blushed, her eyelids fluttering downward so that her eyelashes swept her cheeks. “Mother,” she whispered, embarrassed. It was all for show. There was no chance that she hadn’t already seen the mistletoe when she called Jay to her. Nick tried to swallow but couldn’t. His body had frozen and he was rooted to the spot, watching his worst nightmare part two. Jay’s eyes remained on the mistletoe overhead. He looked just as frozen as Nick felt.

  
“Oh come on, it’s just a bit of Christmas fun!” His Uncle laugh. Oddly, he wasn’t looking at the pair on the fireplace at all, but at Nick, a disturbing amount of malice behind his smile. “Kiss the girl, for God’s sake!”

  
Nick Sr. laughed to himself, shaking his head at his brother. The Bible was left forgotten on the side table. He made no attempt to quell his brother’s demands. Joey, nestled near Jay’s feet blushed at the scene but still grinned and shoved at Jay’s feet a little. “Come on, kiss her Jay!” Jay finally tore his eyes from the mistletoe and looked around the room, blank in the face of the subtle chant of “kiss her”. Daisy giggled.

  
Nick was trapped in his body, unable to do anything. Unable to run up and sit between them, or push Daisy away. Unable to scream “no!” or “don’t!”. He might as well remain trapped in his body. It wasn’t as if he could do any of those things even if he could find it within himself to move. The only thing he could feel was Ruth’s hand gripping onto his knee like talons, and his heart eroding away with each passing second.

  
“Just do it man!” His Uncle leaned forward and roared jovially. Though it passed in the fraction of a second, every movement slowed down to last an eternity. Jay turned to Daisy, gently cupped her face, and kissed her. A soft pressing of their lips was all it was. Eyes closed, a soft sigh from Daisy, and Jay pulled away to soft cheers around the room. Had Nick been able to move, he would have fallen off the edge of the armchair into the large black hole beneath him threatening to suck him in. He pried Ruth’s hand off his knee and stood up. Jay stood up with him, his shoulder bumping into one of the stockings in his haste. Daisy clung to his hand.

  
“I, uhm, I have to-”

  
“Speak up son,” His Father sighed in annoyance, “Remember, speak with conviction or don’t speak at all.”

  
Nick nodded and swallowed at the lump in his throat. It stayed securely lodged, burning his very breath. “Please excuse me,” he began louder this time, “Tonight’s dinner isn’t sitting well with me.” He turned and fled the room before any protestations could be made.

  
He kissed her. Jay kissed Daisy. Daisy knew how his lips tasted, how soft they were. She knew how it felt to be connected to Jay in a way Nick never would. Hot tears poured down onto his sweater from his cheeks. He wasn’t crying because of the kiss. No, he was crying because this damn lump in his throat burned with each breath, each silent sob. He dug his nails into his palm and grit his teeth in anger.

  
No. He _was_  crying because of the kiss. Because even though he was sure Daisy still had that log named Tom, she had to go and kiss his Jay. Not his Jay. Jay didn’t belong to him. He was a grown man. He was free to choose who he kissed and who he didn’t. Nick just happened to be on the Don’t Kiss list, and it was there he would stay. He burst into his room, making it there through pure muscle memory for the second time that day. His back fell against the door and he just let himself cry. Cry because his family ruined everything for him. They had even ruined Jay.

  
He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore and his became dry. Even then, he continued to shake and sob even though his body had run out of tears to give. He stayed collapsed against the door until his legs went numb and the dark and cold seeped into the very marrow of his bones. Even when his body felt like it was nothing but a cracked shell, he stayed on the floor. He was too strained to move anymore today. He gripped at his hair, softly hitting his head back into the door. What a fucking idiot he was. He knew that Jay was straight, and that over the last few months he had been building himself up for a bigger and bigger heartbreak the closer he got to Jay. This point was going to come, no matter how hard he pretended it wouldn’t. He let himself play this game with Jay, dancing around each other, letting his emotion be toyed with, all the while telling himself that when reality hit it wouldn’t hurt that bad. He was wrong. It hurt worse.

  
At some point, he wasn’t sure when or how much time had passed, he pulled himself away from the door. He still neglected the lights as he shuffled out of his clothes and into his cold bed. The tears made a small comeback when he thought of how just last night, Jay had been holding him against his chest in this very bed. How he had stroked his hair, how his heartbeat had sung him to sleep. So much could change in twenty four hours. Cheeks went once more, Nick turned his face into the pillow and pleaded for sleep to come to offer some semblance of relief. But sleep didn’t come because Jay had kissed Daisy.

  
A soft tapping at his door woke Nick up. Well, he wasn’t really sleeping as sort of staring off blankly in the direction of one of his walls. He rolled over to the door. The seconds ticked by and all remained silent. Maybe he imagined it. The tapping cane again, a little louder this time. He sighed clicked open his phone. Midnight. He huffed and flicked on the bedside lamp, padding over to the door. There in the dark hallway stood a rather disheveled, and frowning Jay.

  
“Hey, can I come in?”

  
Nick chewed at the inside of his cheek, looking down at his feet. He closed the door a little, hiding his body from Jay. After all, he was only in his boxers. He hadn’t really felt like going through the effort of pajamas tonight. “I...no. I think you better go. I don’t really feel like talking,” he muttered to the floor, going to close the door the last final inch. Jay put his hand on the door and pushed it open a little more.

  
“Nick, please. I don’t want to do this again.”

  
Nick frowned and let the door open slightly wider. He scoffed. “Do what again?” When Jay looked down the hall and didn’t speak, Nick opened the door just enough to let him in.

  
“I don’t want you to shut me out again. That October was the worst October of my life because you were angry with me and wouldn’t talk to me,” Jay ran his hands agitatedly through his hair before turning to Nick, his eyes glistening. “I can’t imagine doing that now. I can’t imagine not having you be a part of my life because of something I did wrong. But please, don’t pull away from me Nicky.” He gently took hold of Nick’s shoulders. Nick bit his lip and looked down. Oh god and he had just finished crying. This idiot had no idea what he was doing to him, did he? Jay was killing him. He said such nice things, was always reaching out for him but it was wrong. It was all wrong. Because Jay was just reaching out for his friend, for his roommate. Nick didn’t want this anymore. He didn’t want to be a part of Jay’s life unless he could be a _part_ of Jay’s life. It hurt too much otherwise.

  
Nick brushed Jay’s hands off and stepped away. “No. Don’t say that. Please, you have no idea how much it hurts when you say things like that. I can’t have this. I don’t want this anymore. Don’t ask me not to pull away. Don’t you understand, I have to. It’s killing me to stand so close to the sun,” Nick walked to the door, opening it for Jay to leave.

  
Jay crossed his arms and let out a deflating breath. He shook his head, his voice coming much quieter this time. “I don’t understand what I did wrong. I’m always trying to be so nice to you, give you the attention you deserve, because you do deserve it Nicky.”

  
Nick wanted to scream. Jay was the only person who needed to be broken up with even if they were never going out in the first place. He let the door fall shut again and marched up to Jay. He could feel something building up inside him, a whole multitude of unnameable emotions. Anger at reality for waking him up to this pain, at Jay for not just letting him go. An all consuming, maddening love, veneration and adoration for Jay in this intensely vulnerable moment. And a crippling sadness that Nick would never be able to see Jay like this again or else he would fall even deeper in love and even deeper in pain.

  
“I can’t stand it,” he hissed, the tears beginning to escape the corners of his eyes. Jay’s own eyes began to well at the words. Nick...couldn’t stand him? Jay shook his head, refusing to accept what Nick was saying but he continued on. “I can’t stand when you look at me, or talk to me, or touch me! Because you don’t look at me the way I need you to,” Nick began to sob, gasping for breath between declarations. _Oh dear god what was he saying? Stop talking! Stop talking!_ “And you don’t say the things that I only want you to tell me! And you don’t touch me in the way that I’m longing for you to touch me!” He babbled almost noncoherent. “Because it’s killing me to be so close to you but never close enough. And it kills me to see you happy with someone else or for me to realize that everything I hope you can give me...it will never be me. It has to be someone else because that’s who you are. And if I get any closer, I’m going to suffocate in you.”

  
Jay stared at him, mouth slightly agape, a shuddering breath shaking his chest. Nick had buried his face in his hands, unable to look at the destruction he had caused. He had just admitted to Jay everything he had vowed to never reveal. Any moment now he expected to hear the soft footfalls of Jay’s feet and the opening of the door. Then Nick would be alone again. Truly alone. Without his Jay. No footsteps came, no turning of a door knob. The tears stopped coming and his breathing came close to normal again, but not all the way. Nick suspected it wouldn’t be all the way normal ever again. He lifted his face from his hands and Jay still stood before him, eyes downcast, and face adorned with a sad sort of beauty.

  
“Can I say something?” Jay whispered, carefully taking Nick’s hands in his own. He stepped closer to Nick, closing the distance between them. Nick’s heart began to flutter when Jay’s hands roamed up his arms and to his neck. It very nearly stopped when Jay leaned in and brushed their lips together. Just a fraction of a second, to test the waters so to speak. Nick closed his eyes tightly and breathed in sharply through his nose. He could still feel Jay just barely an inch away, waiting for Nick to do something. Anything. For the first time in awhile, his mind was completely blank. He had no plan, no thoughts, nothing. Only the fact that Jay, Jay fucking Gatsby, had just kissed him. And there was no mistletoe. Jay...wanted to kiss him.

  
Nick’s eyes flew open to meet Jay’s questioning gaze. Jay wasn’t just waiting, he was asking. Well, Nick better hurry and give him his answer. He pulled Jay back down to him, their lips meeting with eager anticipation. Nick had never really kissed anyone, not like this. This was more than anything he had ever known, and not quite what he was expecting. It was wet, and a little inexperienced (on his end), their lips sliding together with a little too much fervor after months of waiting. Jay wrapped his arms around him and lifted him off the ground a little. Nick had found what heaven really meant suspended in Jay’s loving embrace, kissing him so deeply Nick never wanted to breathe again.

* * *

Dick puffed on the cuban his brother had offered him. The events of the night passed through his memory, most particularly what he had discovered about his nephew. Or, what he suspected. His brother sat across from him, peacefully watching his wife lay out presents under the tree. He smirked to himself knowing he had the ability to destroy the tranquility of his brother’s mind. 

“So,” he smacked his lips at the taste of the tabacco, “Your boy seems awfully close to that Gatsby boy.”

Nick nodded and hummed, not quite getting what Dick was poking at. Nick had never been the brighter of the two. How he had taken over the family company and not him, Dick had never understood.

”Does Nick happen to have a girlfriend?”

”If he does, he’s never said a word about it to us. Never had any interest in girls anyways. Just his books.”

Ah. So now he had even more fuel behind his accusations. He took another puff, eyeing his brother. Still, he gave no inclination to catching on to Dick’s point. Might as well jump right into it. 

“Well, maybe he’s never had interest for a reason?”

”And that reason being?” Nick finally seemed engaged in the conversation, turning his attention to Dick. 

“He’s a pervert. One of those kind of men.” 

Nick lowered his own cuban, eyes flickering dangerously. Where his brother lacked observational skills, he had more than enough pride concerning his family. “What exactly are you implying, Richard?” He asked in a deadly whisper. Nick’s fear factor never worked on Dick. Hard to be afraid of someone you grew up with. 

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t thought it before. He’s always been an odd kid. Now that he’s out on his own, he may have forgotten what it means to be a Carraway. First he brings a boy home for Christmas. Already that raises some concerns. And have you been completely oblivious to how he acts around him?”

Nick looked away from Dick, scowling at the dying fire. He gave his brother some time to think on the matter before continuing on. 

“Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that Jay is. He and Daisy make quite the attractive couple, and it wasn’t him that was drooling all over Nick tonight. It was the other way around. I watched him all throughout dinner. It was grotesque. But even if Jay isn’t, that won’t stop Nick. Imagine what would happen should he admit who he is to Jay? Any future for him would be ruined, the family name discredited,” Dick took another puff of his cigar and smiled to himself. There was nothing left to be said. The damage was done. All he had to do now was sit back and watch the aftermath. If things went according to plan, his brother would be out an heir, this new connection through the Gatsby boy would fall in his favor, and along the way, another pervert would be down and out. 

“That can’t happen,” his brother muttered to himself, his face dark. 

“So, do something about it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas Eve chapter, just in time for Christmas Eve. Finals are over and I’m on break for about two weeks so that means lots of writing!  
> Also, it’s beginning! It took 19 chapters for them to finally get to it, but they got here eventually. The only question left is did Jay stay the night or not?  
> This was a tough chapter emotionally but it’s really only a precursor for what’s to come. Don’t worry, it won’t all be angst. Just mostly angst
> 
> Once again, I didn’t really edit the chapter beforehand, so please excuse any mistakes. On that note, I am looking for a Beta for this fic! My current one is unavailable. If you’re interested, you guys can message me on tumblr or Instagram under the same username. 
> 
> Merry Christmas!


	20. Vesuvius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title hints, everything blows up. Heads up, it’s a pretty long chapter and a majority of it was edited at 5 am so excuse any errors please  
> Warning: homophobic behavior and language exhibited by Nick’s family.  
> Second Warning: There will be sex in this chapter. So for those of you who don’t want to read that, it will be towards the end. It’s not hard to miss.

That was the first time Nick slept on Christmas Eve. No doubt Jay was responsible for that. After they had broken apart from their kiss, Nick was practically limp in Jay’s arms. They both panted for breath, foreheads pushes against together. All Nick was good for at the moment was running his fingers through Jay’s already messy hair. “Stay,” He whispered hoarsely between the two of them, “Please.” Jay tilted his face upwards to give him a quick peck.

  
“Of course, I’ll stay right here, for as long as you want me to.” Nick kissed him again, more prepared this time, more controlled. He tugged slight at Jay’s hair, almost wrapping his legs around Jay’s waist. Jay moaned happily and stumbled backwards onto the bed, pushing Nick underneath him. This is what Nick had been waiting for, he thought as Jay’s hands slid down to his hips, hands thrillingly cold against his skin. Jay’s tongue slipped into Nick’s open mouth, twisting itself with Nick’s own tongue in a passionate, wet tango.

Nick kept his eyes closed, afraid that should he open them he would discover that all of this was just another dream and Jay would slip away from under his fingers. Jay’s hand grazed up his elevated thigh, Nick tingling in a very tangible way. This wasn’t a dream. Dreams didn’t feel like this. Dreams were slow and groggy and everything only felt half real. There was nothing half real about the way Jay groaned from above him when Nick tugged at his hair again.

  
Nick broke away from the kiss, his lips already swollen, a sensation Nick did not find pleasant in past experience, but willingly welcomed. He squirmed underneath Jay, propping himself up on his arms. Jay backed off, still leaning over Nick.

  
“Um,” Nick breathed, shifting again on the bed covers, suddenly very aware of how very on display he was.

  
“What’s wrong, Old Sport?” Nick relaxed a little more at the familiar term. This was Jay. He could trust Jay.

  
“I...I don’t… I don’t really,” Nick trailed off, losing his nerve. Ridiculous. He had just majorly made out with the man and he couldn’t even work up the courage to say the word sex, let alone talk about it. Jay waited patiently, reaching out for one of Nick’s hands. “I’m not really ready...for anything else, right now,” he muttered, going beet red. Jay jumped back onto his ankles so that he no longer loomed over Nick.

  
“I’m so sorry, is this not okay?” He panicked, already sliding off the bed. Nick laughed and caught his hand to pull him back over.

  
“Did I give any inclination that I didn’t like making out with you? I did ask you to stay.” Jay nodded and set his head in the crook of Nick’s neck.

  
“I know, I just don’t want to scare you away or something.” Nick laughed at Jay’s pouty lips and rubbed small circles into his back. Jay couldn’t scare Nick away even if he tried. Eventually they moved to underneath the covers, particularly when Jay noticed that Nick began to shiver. After all, the room was still cold and Nick was still wearing practically nothing. They assumed the position of last night. Legs intertwined, arms around each other and Nick’s head resting on Jay’s chest, rocked to sleep by the rise and fall of his breath and the comfort of knowing that for this night, Jay was completely and entirely his own.

  
Nick thought he could never be happier than he had been the night before: that his life had reached its peak. But then he had the experience of waking up in Jay’s arms, crowned in the morning sunlight. No, this had to be his peaking moment. Jay was still asleep, the sun just reaching his face, lighting up Nick’s world. He reached out and pushed the hair off of Jay’s forehead, hand resting on the side of his face. Nick smiled to himself. God, he got to touch this face. He got to hold these cheeks, to kiss these lips. Jay’s eyes fluttered open and he glared blindingly into the sun, offended that anything would disturb his slumber. But then he remembered he was in Nick’s bed, and that said man was currently nestled in his chest, gazing up at him.

  
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, smile spreading across his face like butter. Nicks hands slid back into Jay’s hair to tether him down lest he float away in giddiness.

  
“Pinch me, Jay,” He whispered, eyes still starry and wide. Jay laughed, muttered something about kinky and pinched Nick in the side. He jumped a little at the shock of momentary pain before breaking out into the biggest smile of his life. “It’s not a dream. You’re really here,” he breathed, still in need of convincing that anything as miraculous as this could have happened.

  
Jay nodded and whispered, “I’m really here,” before leaning in for a languid, morning kiss that made Nick’s toes curl. To be fair, every time Jay had kissed him so far it had that effect. His body couldn’t help but react in the biggest ways for Jay. He could think of no better way than to pass Christmas morning than to stay up in bed, enclosed in Jay’s embrace. If they did that, however, sooner or later someone would come to find them. The ensuing disaster would be more than nightmarish.

  
“Alright,” Nick nuzzled into Jay for a moment before rolling away, “Let’s get this day over with.”

  
“Love the Christmas spirit,” Jay laughed, following suit. He planted a surprise kiss on the back of Nick’s neck before taking his leave. His clothes weren’t exactly in this room anymore, and present opening wasn’t a pajama-clad event in this household.

  
The door softly clicked shut and Nick just stood in the middle of his room for a second. Just a second before he face planted back onto his bed. He shrieked into a pillow and wriggled in happiness. He felt like laughing and crying all at once. Nick now realized that any inclination he had of happiness until this moment was false. This is what happiness really was. Not some sort of fleeting feeling that dissipated as soon as the moment had passed, no burps of laughter or secret smiles.

Happiness was unadulterated, genuine energy coursing through his veins. Happiness was the brightness of the sun itself radiating from his chest. No birthday, no christmas, no award of recognition had ever brought him this level of happiness before. And now that he had felt it, he never wanted to go back. All of the sudden he could see his life clearly before him: more bright and hopeful and clear than it had ever been. Before all there had been was gray office walls till the end of his days. Now all he could see was Jay and the future looked _good_.

  
After he completed his happy wriggles, Nick rushed to get dressed, pulling on pants and a sweater (specifically one of the sweaters that Jay had bought for him). He rushed out of the room, cheeks flushed, hair as messy as can be, and the largest smile in existence on his face.

  
He tried his best to compose himself before heading into the parlor. Christmas wasn’t a good enough reason for him to be so ridiculously happy. So he controlled his smile, his cheeks aching from the effort. It was the best pain he’d ever felt. After his smile reduced itself to a normal level, he allowed himself to head on in.

  
Jay had apparently beaten him downstairs. His time spent happily wriggling probably had something to do with that. He beamed up at Nick from where he was seated on the fireplace next to Joey, the other animatedly talking about sport something or other. Nothing in his smile had changed particularly. It was still just as bright, still just as genuine. Yet, it made Nick pause in his step, his heart flutter and his breath hitch a little. Because now that beautiful smile was his.

  
“Nick,” his father spoke up from his armchair. Nick nearly jumped, forgetting there were other people in the room for a moment. His father was smiling as well, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and his lips were much too tight. The back of his neck prickled a little, his senses detecting danger, but he didn’t care. It was Christmas after all, and he had Jay to back him. There was nothing his family could do today that would truly upset him. So Nick smiled back and nodded to his father.

  
“Hope you’re feeling better. You left us quite abruptly last night,” Nick Sr. hummed, interlocking his fingers in front of him.

  
“Yes, much better. Just needed a good night's sleep. Jet lag must’ve been getting to me finally,” Nick excused, starting to fisher under his father’s scrutiny. The answer seemed to satisfy his father, however, because he turned his attention elsewhere.

  
A few more latecomers straggled in, mainly Ruth, still in her pajamas, and then the process of opening presents began. Present time had always been very methodical: youngest to oldest, one at a time, then repeat as needed. Nick dared to sit next to Jay. It wasn’t too suspicious. They were friends, it was a holiday, and they had been separated almost the entire trip in the presence of family. Nothing out of the ordinary about wanting to sit next to each other in front of the fire. At least, he hoped. Uncle Dick kept smirking at him through the following hour in a way that made him squirm and itch. He hated that knowing smirk.

  
Jay’s presents were a hit. No one had expected him to get anything. He was the guest after all, and a last minute one at that. They weren’t the most expensive things, nor the best looking, but nonetheless, they were a delight. His mother gushed over the thought and promised Jay that she would wear the broach he had found to dinner. Even his father, a difficult man to shop for, was pleasantly surprised, announcing his plan to display the pens at the office. Ruth broke out into peals of laughter when she opened a little wooden bear figurine, the same one that had made Jay laugh just as hard. It seemed that was the present Jay was most proud of. He held his chin high when Ruth first started laughing, taking in the spoils of his victory. Nick just shook his head and snigggered. It completely slipped his mind that Jay had bothered to get him a present too.

  
“This one, is for you,” Jay said, sliding a carefully wrapped box onto Nick’s lap. Nick didn’t remember wrapping this one. Nor did he remember Jay getting him anything this size in town. He raised his eyebrows at Jay, hoping for a sort of explanation. Jay just pointed to the box and bit his lip in anticipation. Nick had to look away before his eyes got caught on Jay’s bottom lip for the remainder of the morning. He carefully tore at the paper and opened the box. His breath caught when he came face to face with an aging book cover. The cover was faded, the golden title unintelligible. He felt it might crumble when he went to pick it up. The pages creaked as he opened it to the title page. It was a copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy, an 1865 edition.

Any other time, Nick would’ve snorted and begin to laugh. But things had changed between them. And this book was definitely not an easy find, he could tell. He opened his mouth to speak but the words caught in his throat. His fingers roamed over the aged cover as became aware of just how much Jay cared for him, and for how long he must’ve as well. It took time to pull something of this caliber off. Even though it started as a silly nickname, this book could barely express the emotion behind it now. Nick shifted his gaze to Jay’s face and knew he understood. He understood everything.

  
“I knew you’d like it,” Jay whispered, eyes shining. 

“I don’t,” Nick smiled, “I love it.” 

Jay laughed when he opened Nick’s present. Like Jay, Nick had remembered Halloween and found a couple albums of Wham! All in mint condition. One was even signed. Jay held one of the albums up to his face and mimicked George Michael’s pout. “Any similarity?” He asked, raising a brooding eyebrow.

  
Nick laughed and shook his head, “Not at all!” How different he might have acted that morning had he known he was being watched. He wouldn’t have sat so close to Jay, he wouldn’t have laughed so often, or kept staring at him. It wouldn’t have been as fun, but at least it would’ve been safe.

  
Everything was smooth sailing until dinner. Then it was time for his execution, but how could he know that? How could he know about the fears that his Uncle has poured into his father’s head and how could he know that his behavior with Jay had only confirmed them? He had been too happy to be careful, or even care about appearances any more. Nick had gone into this vacation, planning the worst with Jay. He had never even considered planning a worst case scenario with his family. He just assumed that he would be smart enough to avoid confrontation.

  
Nick was allowed to sit next to Jay at dinner, to his delight. Jay was wearing a rather attractive dress shirt and had it unbuttoned just enough to drive Nick crazy. That should’ve been his first red flag. His father had remained rather un-meddlesome throughout the day, letting Nick do as he pleased. Jay as well. He didn’t try to police their movements or arrange them just the way he liked unlike yesterday. His father didn’t even wait for the main course before setting in for the kill.

  
“Tell me Jay, did you grow up in a religious household, by any chance?”

  
Jay looked up from his soup, a little startled, but pleasantly so. Like Nick, he was just as unaware. Besides, Mr. Carraway liked him. What was there to fear? “No, can’t say that I did. We went to mass on Easter and Christmas, but not much else besides that.” He turned back to his soup, expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

  
“Sorry to hear. Ourselves, we take great care to raise our children righteously. I remember, they were fond of Veggie Tales when they were younger. It wasn’t the best way for them to learn, but at least they were learning. At least, I thought they were.” It was clear now that Mr. Carraway wasn’t just speaking to Jay, but to the table in general. Nick paused, his spook midway between the bowl and his mouth.

  
His eyes flicked to his father for a moment before back down to his bowl. Still, he had no inclination at where his father was headed with this tangent. Nick glanced across the table to Ruth, the same hesitant look on her face, though tinged with annoyance. They could only guess that this was again about her and her current lifestyle. That was a popular topic of discussion for their parents. Nick looked back down to his soup, preparing for another fight between Ruth and their parents.

  
“You see, I taught my children to honor traditional values. There are certain ways a home should be constructed, and ways that it should not. Same goes for the individual. Our church teaches obedience to the law, something I very strongly agree with. And the law should be as its always been, wouldn’t you say so?” He directed the question to Jay, though his eyes slid over to Nick. The hair on the back of his neck began to prick under his father’s harsh gaze. Maybe this speech wasn’t entirely about Ruth.

  
Jay looked around the table, everyone waiting on him for a reply. “I..suppose so, Mr. Carraway.” Nick was amazed. How could he not be stammering right now?

  
“Right you are. I don’t see any need why the law needs changing all the time.”

  
At this, Ruth could tell where this was going and she had heard enough of this over the years. She didn’t need another Christmas spoiled because of a useless political tirade. “The law changes,” she began firmly, “with the times and with society. There’s nothing more dangerous than a stagnant system.” She fixed her father with her steely gaze, a trait, ironically enough, she had gained from him.

  
“I’ll thank you not to interrupt me,” their father snapped before recollecting himself, “As I was saying, a changing law can only cause confusion, especially for the youth of this country. There are some things, certain lifestyles, that are completely unacceptable. People who follow these lifestyles deserve to be punished, no matter what the law says.” The table remained quiet while Mr. Carraway took a sip of his wine.

  
Nick looked around. Both his mother, Joey and Daisy continued to eat their meal as if nothing was going on. If they agreed or not, they knew it was best to let the men speak their mind. Uncle Dick was nodding along intently, his soup ignored. Nick thought it best himself to try and ignore whatever rant his father was starting off on and continue to eat his meal as peacefully as possible.

  
“These sinners, these homosexuals,” his father spat the word like it was a curse, “Cannot and will not be tolerated, not in my country.” Jay’s spoon lay limp in his hand. He stared at Mr. Carraway as if all of Nick’s reservations, all his anxiety finally made sense. Everything was clicking into place and Jay was absolutely astonished. He wasn’t aware that people like this actually existed.

  
Mr. Carraway took another sip of his wine, pushing his bowl side so his could set his elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of his face. “You can imagine, then, my horror and disgust when I discovered one of these animals actually exists in my family. Nick,” the clinking of silverware halted completely around the table. There was no pretending not to listen now. Nick clenched his spoon to keep it from splattering in his soup. He looked around the table. Everyone was facing him now.

  
Uncle Dick was smirking into his wine class, Aunt Heidi looked like she had just stepped in something nasty and Nick was the something nasty, Ruth looked like she was about to throw up because she was powerless to protect Nick from the words of their father. Joey shook his head in disbelief and his mother refused to look at him. Daisy was chewing on her bottom lip and absently twirling her spoon through her soup. She had never been fond of confrontation. Nick opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish for a moment, nothing combing to mind, no way to defend himself. God, he wished he was a dying fish rather than trapped under everyone’s glare at the moment.

  
“Nick,” his father repeated, “You know exactly what I’m referring to, don’t you? Frankly, your behavior over the last few days makes me sick. And poor Jay, your victim. Have you no semblance of decency, of humanity? Do you realize if your disgusting little secret ever got out, you would ruin us? The name Carraway would be forever tainted by a faggot!”

  
Nick shook his head, closing his eyes. If he closed his eyes, it would all go away. His father would stop yelling, he wouldn’t be exposed, he could go back to being happy again. But it didn’t work. His father kept yelling. Closing his eyes did nothing.

  
“The way you hang off of and drool over poor Gatsby is perverse. And force the rest of us to watch. Not that I’m accusing you of anything, Jay,” He father said gently to a shell-shocked Jay, “I’m sorry that you have to deal with him. Frankly, he’s always been an embarrassment and you can always tell him to back off. The little fag likes his solitude anyhow.” Bile rested on the back of his tongue and his stomach churned in pain. Any minute now he was going to be sick. And still his father kept going.

  
“I really don’t know where we want wrong with you Nick, but this is inexcusable. Beyond it, in fact. Something will have to be done to salvage the situation. There are therapies, medicines for this sort of sickness,” his father took a breath, and Nick could tell he was nowhere near finishing, but Nick wasn’t interested in hearing the rest.

  
“What’s wrong with you?” He mumbled, shaking his head. Still, it was enough to catch his father’s attention.

  
“What did you say?” His father leaned forward, scowl deepening if that was possible. Nick looked up from his now cold soup and at his father’s face. His father’s loathsome face. For years, it was this face that had kept him prisoner within himself. He was so terrified of his wrath, he had done everything the last 18 years to steer clear of it and in the end what good did it do him?

  
The dam of repression cracked, years of bottled up emotions spilling through. He had always wondered what was behind that wall, always wondered what it might look like to have it finally crumble one day. And now that it was, Nick knew that it wasn’t hope hiding behind the dam, it was anger. Years and years of being stuffed in a closet had built up all those tons of anger. Now that his father was finally coming after him, and pulling out the big guns, he was this close to exploding. He was erupting and it was going to be glorious.

  
“I said, what wrong with you?” Nick spoke up.

  
“Well I never-” his father began angrily.

  
“I’ll thank you not to interrupt me!” Nick shot back, his father shutting up from shock. Nick had never raised his voice in his presence before. In fact, Nick didn't think he had ever really raised his voice in his life but damn did it feel good.

  
“I can’t believe the unmitigated gall you have to say the things that you do. Like it or not, I am your _son_. The compassion you owe me is long overdue. How _dare_ you speak to me and about me like that. Even if it is true, you would say those things to me? Call me those names? Not to mention how exceedingly rude you’re being to Jay! By accusing me, you’re accusing him! Even if you claim that you’re not. I have done my damned best for 18 years to please you, to satisfy you but nothing I do is ever enough for you! I get into the Ivy Leagues, I make influential friends, and you call me faggot in front of the entire family!” The table was stunned by Nick’s outburst. Even Ruth stared wide-eyed at her brother, mouth gaping wide open. Nick paused to catch his breath. His heart was hammering against his chest. It seemed this trip had completely changed him. He was confessing things left and right. First last night to Jay and now this. Nick was on a roll and he wasn’t about to stop. After all, he still had a few more things to say.

  
“I’m tired of trying to live up to your standard. You made it impossible to ever reach and you know that! You’re a very small man living in a very small world. No amount of money or recognition will ever change the fact that you will always be dissatisfied with life. You know why? Because you try to control everyone around you but it doesn’t work because we’re people too, not some wooden pieces you can move around on your board!” Nick stood up, the eyes of the room following his every movement.

  
“Excuse me, sir, but I don’t think I can stand to be in the same room as you a moment longer. I know it’s useless to ask for an apology for myself, but maybe your software could consider apologizing to Jay for causing this whole scene,” Nick snapped, the chair screeching as he pushed it out of his way. He slammed the door on a silent dining hall.

  
Up in his room, Nick paced the floor, a wild energy coursing through his veins. He never felt so alive yet so terrified at the same time. Any moment now he expected his father to come trading through that door and continue where he had left off. Maybe he would disown Nick like had Ruth. The door opened and Nick whirled around, ready to jump right back into the fight but instead of his father bursting through, it was Jay, carefully entering.

  
“Hey,” he said, shutting the door behind him, “I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright. That was pretty awful down there.” Nick nodded and took up his pacing again. Jay walked right up to him and pulled him into the tenderest of hugs.

  
“Nick, I’m so sorry,” he whispered into his hair, “I had no idea how bad he could be.” Nick leaned back from the hug, sure that the smile on his face was manic, or near it in any case. He shook his head and surprisingly enough, he felt like laughing.

  
“It’s fine! I’ve been wanting to say all that for years. I feel, different now. Stronger,” he smiled up at Jay. Concern still etched itself in the corners of his mouth. Nick would like nothing better than to kiss away his frown but Jay pulled away before he could do so.

  
“I’m glad you’re feeling ok,” he nodded more to himself than to Nick, “But you still seem a little jittery.” That was true. Nick was shaking a little but it was from this high he was riding, not from fear. “Maybe find a way to relax a bit, like a nice shower or something,” Jay suggested.

  
A shower did sound nice at the moment. And it wasn’t like he was going back down to diner anytime soon. “I don’t have any towels in my bathroom, though,” he frowned. This was something he realized yesterday when he tried to take a bath.

  
“I’ll get you one from my room,” Jay offered, “You just concern yourself with getting yourself calmed down,” he kissed his forehead before slipping through the door. 

The water probably should’ve been cold considering he needed to cool down after that scene downstairs. But he didn’t want to cool down. He basked in this righteous anger coursing through him. After yelling and making a scene, he wasn’t afraid, he was alive. The strongest urge to keep it going, to do something absolutely destructive overwhelmed. He yearned to spite his family and all their years of oppression. He let the weight of his childhood wash down the drain with the scalding water as the bathroom filled with steam. _This is a temporary victory_ the voice in his head chastised. _You’ll feel different in the morning. Think rationally._ But he didn’t want to think rationally nor about the morning and what it might bring. He rolled his head back, letting the heavy stream massage his scalp.

A bit of steam poured out as the door slowly opened, Jay cautiously stepping into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him. Nick felt the need to cover himself, but there was no possible way for Jay to see anything more than an outline of his body through the steam and the warped glass of the shower.

“Hey, Old Sport, I’m just...I just brought you a towel...I’ll just, leave it,” Jay, tripped over his words. Nick opened the shower door just a little and poked his head out. Jay had his head lowered, eyes painfully focused on the towel in his hands. He made no effort to place the towel down. He had begun to change out of his formal wear, now just in his slacks and shirt, still unbuttoned just enough to be tantalizing. He must’ve been uncomfortable with the amount of steam in the room, his clothes beginning to stick to his skin.

A different kind of urge took over Nick as his eyes roamed over Jay’s curves and tensed muscles, the way his eyebrows were so obviously drawn together in restraint, even in profile. The heaviness of the evening still pressed down on his heart, the adrenaline from his anger not enough to lift it, and heaven knows it wasn’t helping him to calm down. He needed his Jay, and he needed him now. With clothes or not, he didn’t particularly care.

“Jay.”

“Hmm?” Jay inclined his head to the shower but still kept his eyes respectfully downcast.

“Would you mind…” Nick wasn’t entirely sure how to ask. He knew what he wanted, but if Jay wanted something different, it wouldn’t help him feel better. He bit his bottom lip, rethinking his proposal but Jay spoke up before he could rearrange his thoughts completely.

“If I joined you?” He finished the sentence for him.

Nick, cheeks already red from the heat, still found a way to go fully crimson as he nodded. Jay finally set the towel down and expertly stripped himself of his dress shirt and slacks. Nick didn’t even have time to look away and offer the same respect Jay had given him. He pulled the door away from Nick so that he could slide into the shower next to him.

“Alright I will. Just so long as you don’t hog all the hot water.” Nick didn’t even have the energy to laugh at Jay’s little quip. The air had been knocked out of him as soon as Jay had pulled off his shirt, not even bothering with the buttons. He had no idea how Jay was able to remain so casual. Nick was acutely aware that this was the first time they had seen each other fully naked. Still, he kept his eyes up. Maybe a little too far up.

Jay laughed and placed his hand gently on Nick’s cheek. “I can get out if you want me too,” he said seriously when Nick continued to look at the ceiling. At the threat of having Jay leave again, Nick snapped back to the present, the shock of having Jay actually get into he shower with him dissipating.

Nick held onto Jay’s forearms and met his gaze. “No, I don’t,” He muttered. Jay smiled, that stupid blinding smile and placed his forehead against Nick’s.

“Good,” he breathed between them. Nick sighed and laid his head against Jay’s shoulders, the latter’s arms wrapping around his torso in comfort. Once again, Nick felt safe in Jay’s arms. That foreign notion of home became familiar. This is all he needed for the rest of his life. Just Jay and him against the world. The hot water continued to beat against his back and his heart began to slow, even though he was wrapped in a nude Jay’s embrace.

“Do you have a nice voice?”

“What?” Jay laughs at the sudden question.

“Like, for singing. Do you have a nice voice?”

“I guess,” Jay chuckled, gently running his fingers up and down Nick’s back. Nick raised his head from Jay’s shoulder and examined his face. His cheeks had also started to pinken from the heat. Or maybe it was something else, Nick didn’t know.

“Can you sing something for me? Something, I don’t know, nice?” Why he was asking Jay to sing for him instead of desperately latching onto his lips right now, Nick didn’t know. Perhaps he thought it would be romantic or an extra factor to add to the calm. But whatever the reason, he knew Jay wouldn’t disappoint. The taller man had his eyebrow raised in confusion before he nodded. After all, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Nick. His brow furrowed once more as he rifled through his internal playlist. A soft smile spread across his face as he made his selection.

“Ok,” he announced, “I got one.” Nick laid his head back down on Jay’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Jay held him tight and began to sway them back and forth to a slow beat. When he sang, his voice was soft, low and clear, just above a hum and barely heard above the stream of water.

“ _If you like to talk to tomatoes, if a squash can make you smile_ ,” he sang. Nick stopped swaying and jerked his head back to look Jay in the face. He wasn’t serious was he? Jay had the biggest shit eating grin plastered on his face and it looked like he was about to choke to keep from sniggering. He was absolutely serious. Jay’s eyes flashed with glee as he continued, “ _If you like to waltz with potatoes up and down the produce aisle…_ ”

Nick pushed Jay’s arms off of him and scoffed. Of course, he wasn’t really mad. Just...a little incredulous, that’s all. Here they were, enjoying a nice moment and Jay had to go and ruin it. “You ass. I should’ve known you would tease me for that! I’ll see you in bed,” Nick scoffed turning his back on Jay. He pushed open the shower door as dramatically as he could, Jay’s laughter increasing. The laughter stopped, however, when Nick actually began to get out of the shower.

“Wait!” Jay swallowed his laughter and grabbed Nick’s arm, pulling him back in. He whirled Nick around to face him. And Nick, well he had a comeback prepared and everything. It was really good one too. But it slipped right out of his mind as Jay practically yanked him into a deep kiss. Nick pulled back, pushing Jay away a little bit too. Jay’s eyes widened and he shook his head quickly.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kiss you without-” Nick shut Jay up quickly, crashing back into the kiss. Admittedly, he was taken aback at first. Jay had never really kissed him so suddenly before. But once he had a moment to process, he was all in. He pulled Jay’s face down to his, devouring his lips with his own. This time it was Jay caught off guard but it didn’t take him long to reciprocate. He wrapped his arms around Nick, once again lifting him so that he was higher. Nick fully wrapped his legs around Jay’s waist, crashing their bodies even closer together. Jay hummed, falling forward until Nick had his back pressed against the wall. He gasped at the addictive contrast of the hard, cool tile at his back and the soft, warm body pressing him against it.

There was no hiding here. They could feel every bit of each other, slick from the still running water. Nick wanted to pull back to watch the way the water pooled in the hollow where Jay’s neck met his shoulder, to watch the way each drop trickled down his chest, down his back. He wanted to watch the journey of the water all the way to the end as it carressed every crook of Jay’s body, especially in the places he was too embarrassed to look before now. But his own body was in the way, and so was Jay.

His mouth had left Nick’s lips and now occupied itself sucking pink marks onto his jaw and neck that wouldn’t last the night. He clutched at Jay’s taught shoulders, a softest moan escaping from his lips. Nick could hardly breathe. His chest was crushed against Jay’s, and the amount of steam was only increasing. Still, nothing in the world could make him want to stop. Except for lack of oxygen. The least sexy thing he could imagine right now would be passing out. He tugged at Jay’s hair, gasping his name in very sensible way, the grip of his legs around his waist slipping.

“It’s too hot,” he slurred, hand in Jay’s hair slipping as well. His lips stopped their trail of marks just for a moment. He kissed Nick quickly on the cheek and kept one arm around him as he reached behind to turn the water off. As soon as that was done, however, it was right back to lavishing Nick’s neck. He lightly bit at his collarbone, hands never staying in one place. They roamed from his sides, to his hips, to his thighs, then back up again, always squeezing with a hypnotic push and pull. Nick couldn’t get enough of it.

He pushed off the wall, depending completely on Jay’s arms and his own legs to keep from falling. Nick wrapped his arms around Jay’s shoulders trying to take in as much of him as he could. He tilted his face back up to his, enveloping him once more in a hungry kiss. He slid his tongue into Jay’s mouth, exploring every sweet corner for as long as he could. He had no thoughts at all. Just this moment, him and his Jay forever this way, just the two of them holding onto each other so tightly Nick thought he would collapse.

They stumbled out of the shower, Jay placing Nick back down on the ground. What a lot of good that did them. Nick could hardly feel his legs, Jay the only thing keeping him upright. They pulled at one another, laughing as they tripped over Jay’s clothes and out the door. They landed on the floor between the bedroom and the bathroom, the both of them still sopping wet. Jay looked Nick over as he laughed and ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Jay smiled, hand tracing the outline of his face, “I’m sorry, I was trying to make it to the bed but I guess my pants had other plans,” he laughed.

Nick shook his head, body trembling underneath Jay from so many things. The fall didn’t hurt him but even if it had it would be nothing compared to the ache that filled his body. An ache only Jay could make go away. He laughed and pulled Jay fully on top of him capturing him in a kiss once more. “Who needs a bed?” He whispered once they broke apart once more.

Jay hadn’t stopped floundering when Nick began to rock his hips upward. Then he was really at a loss for words. He bucked upwards, rubbing desperately against Jay. Jay reciprocated the sentiment, grinding down onto Nick. He gasped and bucked involuntarily this time. Jay’s hand sliding down to his ass didn’t help either. All at once, rubbing their hardened cocks wasn’t enough for him anymore. He had been hard since Jay first pulled him back and kissed him in the shower, and he had been waiting long enough.

“Jay,” he whimpered, sitting himself up on his elbow, head thrown back a bit, “Please, I want you.” Jay moaned, dropping his forehead down to Nick’s chest, dusted with a blush. “I’m ready now,” he added.

Jay regretfully rolled back off of Nick with no small amount of effort. He tilted his head in confusion. He told Jay he wanted him, that didn’t mean to leave him. Nick watched as Jay grabbed his pants off the bathroom floor and dig around in the pocket. He gave Nick a worried look before pulling a condom out of the back pocket, much to Nick’s surprise.

“Please don’t think less of me that I had this on hand,” he whispered, settling himself between Nick’s legs, “I don’t mean to seem arrogant or overly confident. I just thought…just in case...it’s good to be prepared,” he shrugged, judging Nick’s reaction carefully.

Nick fell back and laughed, hands covering his face. “Of course not!” He laughed. Things like condoms hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, at least it crossed one of theirs. Yesterday afternoon came rushing back to him: Jay dipping out on lunch and refusing to tell Nick where he had gone. “Wait,” he laughed again, sitting back up, “Is this what you were getting yesterday? My ‘backup present’?”

Jay blushed and looked down. “Maybe, I don’t remember,” he muttered at the packet. Nick broke out into more peals of laughter, lightly nudging Jay’s side with his knee. Jay was the deepest red Nick had ever seen him. “Well, obviously, I didn’t think I would use it right away,” he defended, “It's good to be prepared though!” Nick laughed and rained little kisses across his cheeks and down his neck.

“Of course it is,” he muttered into the crook of his neck before kissing it. “And I’m guessing, since you didn’t pull anything else out, that the bottle of lotion on the counter might be useful to you as well.”

“Ok, thanks, but the conversation isn’t sexy anymore,” Jay sighed, turning his face away in defeat. Nick sniggered at his pout and pushed himself up onto Jay’s lap, hands cradling his face. “This whole thing started when you started singing Veggie Tales. Sorry to tell you but it was never sexy,” he smiled, speaking against Jay’s lips. Jay surged upward to kiss Nick one last time, admitting that Nick had a point.

Nick reached down and lightly trailed his fingers down the length of Jay’s cock. He gasped into his mouth and rocked his hips at the touch. “Do that again,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. Nick obliged, softly kissing him on the tip of his nose, drawing his fingers across his cock with a little more pressure this time. Jay moaned mournfully when he removed his fingers a second time. Nick was sure not to make that mistake again.

Hardly believing he was allowed to, he wrapped his nimble, quick fingers around Jay’s swollen cock and pulled upwards, sliding back down when he reached the tip. He pumped his hand up and down, Jay’s breath increasing with the motion. Nick quickened the pace, drawing Jay closer to the edge of ecstasy. He watched in awe as Jay’s mouth fell open, amazed that he could get Jay’s body to react this way to just his hand. He bucked his hips wildly into Nick’s hand, before catching his thin wrist and pulling him off of his cock. “No, not yet,” he breathed with difficulty, eyes still closed, “have to take care of you first.”

Jay tore open the condom, sliding it down onto his length while Nick watched. He fumbled trying to reach the bathroom counter until Nick reached above to grab the bottle of lotion he was undoubtedly looking for. Nick felt the opening click of the lid through his entire body in anticipation for what was to come.

“Is this ok?” Jay hummed, looking up through his lashes at Nick. The look on his face was enough to make Nick come on the spot, red still painted across his cheeks from Nick’s work with his hand. Nick gulped and nodded, gripping onto Jay’s shoulders. “Yes,” he gasped, unable to wait any longer.

With that, Jay liberally spread the lotions across his still flushed cock. Nick watched the muscles in his stomach jump and clench once again at friendly touch. Then, Jay spread the lotion across his fingers.

“Can you raise your hips for me?” Jay kissed his Adam’s apple, feeling it bob as Nick swallowed. He nodded and raised himself to his knees, still straddling Jay. He nearly choked on his breath when he felt one of Jay’s fingers enter him.

“God,” Jay chuckled, pressing his lips to his shoulder, “You need to relax or else you’re going to crush me.”

Nick didn’t care about responding. Never had anything been inside him like this before. It stung with just one finger, Nick balked at the thought of having Jay’s cock pressed inside him. Jay waited a while for Nick to adjust before pressing a second finger inside. Nick hissed and dropped his head down. Jay kept his movements slow, scissoring his fingers to open Nick up a little more. All the while he murmured sweet nothings into Nick’s skin, peppering his collarbone and neck with kisses. Soon, Nick became used to the fingers moving inside him, so much so that he started to press down against Jay, wishing the fingers to go deeper. He craved the sting they brought with them, and he wanted more.

“Jay,” he begged again, “I’m ready.” He whimpered when Jay pulled his fingers out, missing the sensation of being filled, but he knew that it was in exchange for something better. Jay placed his hand on his hips, helping to position him just so. His other hand dipped lower to guide himself. “Kiss me,” he whispered, “and just focus on kissing me. It’ll feel better that way.”

Nick did as he was told and bent down to kiss Jay, slow and languid, passion still guiding the slide of their lips. Slowly, with Jay’s hand to guide him, he lowered himself down onto Jay. He jumped when the tip of Jay’s cock penetrated his tight entrance, almost all the way off of Jay’s lap. But Jay shushed into his mouth kissing him deeper than before. Ignoring Jay’s advice to focus on the kiss, he reveled in the sensation of Jay entering him. The fingers had been nothing, merely a warm up comedian before the actual event, compared to this. He cried into Jay’s mouth when he was fully sheathed within him.

“Take your time,” Jay soothed, pushing back Nick’s hair from his still damp forehead. Again, Nick ignored his advice.

The concept of sex was not foreign to Nick. He knew how it went, had heard other’s stories of how it felt. But reading or hearing about it came nowhere close to preparing him for what it actually felt like. The way he stretched around Jay was overwhelming, completely knocking the breath out of him. Already, he felt spent. His limbs trembled with the effort to stay upright on Jay’s lap, every ounce of energy in his body focused on where Jay was buried within him. He still wasn’t quite adjusted to Jay’s length, nor his girth, but he had waited long enough.

Nick rose up off of Jay all the way to the tip of his length before slamming back down. He cried out again and fell against Jay. Any semblance of sense Jay had left was now gone, his hands digging so tightly into Nick’s hips he could feel the bruises being created. Again, he slid off Jay’s cock almost all the way before thrusting back down. The pace began slow, but only took a few more times before it picked up.

Jay fell back onto his elbows, thrusting wildly up into Nick, meeting him thrust for thrust. Nick had fallen into a frenzied rhythm, hand anchored against Jay’s chest to keep him steady as he rode Jay. He own cock throbbed and pulsed, begging to be touched. He reached down stroke himself in time with his thrusts but Jay batted his hands away. He took Nick’s place, fist curled around his cock, pumping away. All of it was driving Nick to the verge of madness, release so close but so far.

Stars burst across his vision with the next time he came down on Jay. His whole body shuddered when Jay’s cock slammed into a sweet spot inside Nick he wasn’t even sure he had. “Jay!” He called out, blinded by pleasure. Next thing he knew, he had been flipped onto his back. Legs wrapped tightly around the man above him, Jay thrust fully into his prostate, over and over. It didn't take long before Nick was a mewling mess beneath him, arching as he came, white strands shooting across them both. A few more thrusts and Jay’s hips stilled, coming with the deepest, lewder moan.

They clung onto each other, gulping in huge breaths of air. Nick’s heart beat so intensely, he was sure Jay would be able to see it pounding against his chest. Jay slipped out of Nick and collapsed next to him. The shower from before was useless. Both of them would have to shower again and look where it led to last time. Nick actually wouldn’t mind repeating the whole thing, just not st the moment. He was drained: of will, of energy, of thought. All there was right now was the cool floor beneath him and Jay by his side, slowly coming to himself.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Oh my god.”

“You said that,” Nick muttered, a tired smile dripping across his lips.

“Yes, but Nick! Oh my god!” He pushed himself over onto his stomach, sliding an arm around Nick’s waist. “Nothing else, for the rest of my life, and I mean nothing, will ever be better than all that just was.”

Nick scoffed but rolled towards Jay’s touch. “Exaggerate,” he hummed, still on one word at a time phase in his recovery. Jay, however, found it fit to chat away.

“I’m serious. No concert, no gift, no food, no anything. Those aren’t even in the same category. I’m going to go through the rest of my life saying ‘that was pretty good, but you know what’s better? Sex with Nick Carraway’.”

“Please don’t say that to people,” Nick groaned, not good for much else right now besides flopping. So he flopped his arm over, intent on playfully shoving Jay, but really it just bounced off his side.

Jay laughed and pulled Nick to his side. “Alright, I won’t,” he kissed his temple. Nick’s head flopped onto his shoulder. Jay disappeared from beside him. Nick was very ready to whine about the fact, but in the next second, Jay had scooped him up into his arms and gently placed him on the bed. “I’m going to clean up, ok?” Jay muttered into his hairline. Nick mumbled a bit of nonsense, eyes fluttering shut again. He listened to the sounds of Jay moving around the room, to water running in the bathroom. Even though Jay warned him, he still jumped when he felt the wet rag against his skin, Jay swiping his chest and stomach clean. He supposed it was all necessary, but all he wanted was for Jay to come and collapse next to him and spend the night by his side one more time.

It only took one or two minutes for clean up, but still, by the time Jay finished, Nick was lost in a world of sleep. He hummed fondly at the sight. Did Nick even know how beautiful he was? His dark curls haloed his head, his cheeks and chest still a soft pink from their activities. Nick smiled in his sleep, a welcome change from his sullen disposition he so usually adopted.

Jay climbed into the bed next to him, pulling him close against his chest. The sleeping Nick gave no resistance. In fact, he snuggled deeper into Jay. Surely his heart would burst. Never did he think someone so pure, so imperfectly perfect as Nick would belong to him. Yet here he was, holding the man of his dreams in his arms. Jay knew it was probably too naive, to cliche, to admit that he was helplessly in love with Nick Carraway. They hadn’t been together long at all. But Jay suspected he had started loving Nick Carraway long before this night, and he would continue to love him for much longer afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me why Veggie Tales. Stupid ideas just pop into my head and I write them down. Maybe it was because the Veggie Tales song was stuck in my head while I was in the shower. Let’s just leave it at Nick has a religious background and most definitely watched Veggie Tales growing up.
> 
> There’s quite a lot that happened in this chapter (16. Pages. Kudos to anyone who read this). Too much for me to discuss in the notes but I will gladly discuss any of the scenes down in the comments with all of you! 
> 
> I’m still looking for a beta for this fic. Partly because I can’t be bothered to edit mostly because I write late at night and forget about it. And partly because I need someone to keep me accountable when it comes to updating. If you’re interested, you can message me on my tumblr (@sewer-seance) or let me know in the comments.


	21. Snow

The echo of the door slam bounced off the crystal, ringing in the group’s ears. The chandelier tinkled overhead, the only sound aside from receding footsteps. Like the seconds after the boom of a cannon, silence dominated the shocked family. Nick’s words had cut to the core of each of them, even though his rant had only been targeted at one. But after those first tense seconds, there is always the moment when the canon ball makes contact, and everything crumbles into chaos. Dick was the first to fall.

  
“Well?” he broke the stunned silence, voice incredulous with rage, “Go after him!” The room stared at him, dumbfounded that he had the audacity to speak up so soon. Nick Sr. was glued to his seat, staring at the chair his son had just vacated. He could feel the eyes of his family boring into him, waiting to see which step their leader would take next. Yet, he just sat there, staring at the empty, crooked chair. He was vaguely aware of someone yelling, either in his mind or at the actual table. Enraged that his son would dare treat him like this, Nick had no doubt that this would need to be dealt with swiftly. His vision grew red around the edges the longer he stared at the vacated chair. When he came to himself, a little of the stun relapsing, the rushing in his ears dissipating, Dick was still yelling after him.

  
“Are you going to let that little brat treat you like that? He gets to walk away? Go on after him! You can’t let children rise above their place, then they start getting ideas! Be a man, Nick! Stop looking so shell-shocked and do something! If I were you-”

  
“But you’re not me.” Nick had quite enough of his brother running his mouth off. This whole disaster started with his brother spewing nonsense words from between his fat lips. Nick couldn’t decide if it was better or worse he had listened to Dick. The issue with his son was certainly important, but why did he have to listen to him? In any case, he had been yelled at once this evening and he wouldn’t let it fly for a second time.

  
“This is my family and my house. I will do what I please, when I please!” his voice steadily rose to a shout, “If I decide that my son is to be punished, I will do it my way and in my own time!” Nick loosened his tie a bit, his neck straining with his rising anger. It wasn’t fair to yell at Dick. It was his son he was mad at, not his brother. Someone had to keep a cool head. Nothing would be done if everyone was yelling.

  
“So, you’re just going to let him go?” His brother laughed in disbelief, hands coming down hard on the table. Nick could see himself begin to diminish as a man in his brother’s eyes. They narrowed like a predator watching lesser prey, searching for weakness. Nick wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Besides he knew better. Passion was true weakness, as his son had just so vividly demonstrated. No, the collected mind was by far superior. Nick smiled coldly across the long table, lips almost curling into a sneer.

  
“No...how I decide to deal with it is no business of yours. Now, if you’ve all had your fair share of dinner theatre, I suggest we go back to enjoying our meal,” Nick straightened his tie, smoothed back his hair, and began to eat as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. His brother puffed up like one of those ridiculously pompous birds, red in the face, but didn’t speak another word against his brother. Dick was too hasty to know how to deal with these situations, to stupid to know how to play the fiddle. Nick Jr. wouldn’t respond to immediate action. That wasn’t the way to make him break, especially in his current mood. No, he would let his son stew, let the guilt and fear eat at him until he came crawling back to beg forgiveness. Give it a few days and his son would come back with his tail between his legs. Nick relaxed at the thought. Less work for him. Time would do its job. 

* * *

 

  
In the end, it was the ache stretching from his hips to his toes that disrupted his sleep. His head fell up and down with the pattern of Jay’s breathing from where it was nestled into the curve of Jay’s chest. Jay was still out for the count, half formed snores rattling each inhale. Though it wasn’t the first time Nick had woken up enveloped in Jay’s arms, it was by far the best. For a few pure seconds, he relished in the warmth spreading through out him, all thoughts absent from his mind. Once again, Nick understood what true bliss meant.

  
But Nick had the misfortune of being human. And humans have the misfortune of memory: a curse more than it is a blessing. He blinked lazily, trailing on of his fingers along Jay’s side, basking in the remaining haze from the night before. Nick couldn’t help but smile sheepishly to himself when he remembered how childishly destructive he felt. That was as close as he had ever gotten to any sort of temper tantrum. It wasn’t as if he could actually do any damage.

  
Nick’s finger paused in his wanderings, the warmth in and about him going stale as it seeped away. That was a lie. He could do damage. He _had_ done damage. Last night’s dinner scene came crashing back to him, only this time, he had none of the anger, none of the courage that had supported him the night before. He shriveled at the memory of his father’s face, at the words thrown between the two of them. What had he _done_? There was no doubt about it: this outburst would be the end of him. Mr. Carraway wouldn’t let this insubordination pass by unpunished. Nick was his heir after all, and his behavior would have to be corrected. Nick folded in on himself, his mind racing with possible countermeasures his father could and would take. Jay shifted in his sleep, jolting Nick from his wild train of thought. Heart stopping, Nick went rigid. _What if his father found out that he had done exactly what he was accusing him of?_

  
Nick rolled away to escape Jay’s arms, his heart switching from silent to haywire. Of course his father would find out. His father found out about everything. He was a dead man. What drove him to shortness of his breath, to the slight shake in his legs, wasn’t the thought of if. There was no “If” when it came to his punishment. He could be sure that it was coming. The question was “when” and it drove him wild. He came to rest on the edge of the bed, a restless sort of fear now controlling his body. Nick told himself to stop shaking but he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control anymore. All he could do was watch behind the bars of his conscience while his body and mind ran amuck.

  
Beyond the frozen lanes of his window, snow trickled down to join the greater white on the earth.

  
Snow after Christmas loses that special quality that makes it more than numbing water, eating away at the body. It is no longer a symbol of purity or the spirit of the season. Suddenly it’s true nature becomes apparent: a smothering blanket of ice that melts into everything living, choking it until death. Nick hated this snow. Even in his bed, he could feel its icy impact. The glow from last night had faded, nearly nonexistent now, replaced with a raging snowstorm over his mind.

  
An arm snaked around his middle, a warm body snuggling behind him. A pair of closed lips rested at the base of his neck, murmured words vibrating against his spine.

  
“What’re you doing all the way over here?” Jay slurred, barely coherent. Nick couldn’t help but clench at the harsh juxtaposition. Jay was still wrapped up in that warm sleepy world, reality leaving him be. Who was Nick to yank Jay out into the snow with him.

  
“Nothing,” Nick whispered, willing his voice to be more cheerful, trying to keep out the tremble. “Just contemplating my impending doom,” he made his attempt at a joke. This way he wasn’t technically lying, but Jay could stay blissfully unaware.

  
“Mmm,” Jay hummed, laughter hidden in his sigh, “You’re so good at pillow talk. So sexy,” Jay teased, his sleep drunk words rolling their eyes. He moved his lips up Nick’s neck and to the shell of his ear. Nick tried to appreciate the sentiment, but the warmth of joy had long since left him now, and it was difficult to get it back once it was gone. He watched snowflakes patter against the pain, each one poignantly striking him. Jay’s lips did battle against the chill, but the cold front came on in full force. Nick had stopped paying attention to Jay’s progress until his own lips were captured in a tender kiss from above.

  
Jay pulled away, searching Nick’s glassy face. His brows creased in concern, catching on to the fact that maybe Nick really did mean impending doom.

  
“What’s the matter?” Jay cupped his face, running his thumb in little circles over his pale cheek, missing the blush from last night. Nick shook his head and fought to put a happy emotion on his face. He had thought that no expression was better than a sad one, but evidently, he had been wrong.

  
“I’m...fine,” he smiled weakly, gagging on the simple two-word sentence. Jay frowned and fell back to his side, blocking Nick’s view of the harsh snow and the frozen window. For a moment, Nick could pretend to forget his sadness. The morning light backlit against Jay’s head created a pale golden halo. The beauty of the man before him physically hurt. Literally. Nick got a stitch in his side from his sharp intake of breath. Jay couldn’t hold back the slight smirk, intertwining their legs. But the second disappeared, and the sadness settled back down in Jay’s shadow.

  
“You’re not fine,” Jay stated, eliminating any intent of a question, “What's wrong?” He drew Nick closer against him, one hand wandering into his tangled hair. Nick couldn’t bear to meet Jay’s piercing gaze.

  
“But what if I am fine?” He asked weakly, feeling especially small in that moment. Jay placed their foreheads together, waiting a long while for Nick to let out the breath he was holding. It came out in a stutter.

  
“You know you can talk to me.” Nick closed his eyes when they began to sting in an all too familiar way. Nick’s throat tightened as Jay waited patiently, occupying himself with stroking the back of Nick’s head, other hand folded into the small of Nick’s back. Yet all the while Nick knew that it couldn’t be this way. His father had been right. He was implicating Jay, his family name. Even if Jay was fine with everything, the scandal that would ensue if this ever got out would ruin them both. Jay didn’t deserve to pay for Nick’s stupid mistakes or lack of control. He needed to push Jay off him before they could get even more wrapped up in this mess. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His longing for comfort and overwhelming fear of the inevitable consequences battled and raged in his body. Despite the proximity to Jay’s heat, he began to tremble again, more violently than before.

  
Jay wrapped him into a hug, shushing and cooing into his ear. Nick brought his hands, which hand been clenched tightly to his chest the entire time, and threw his arms around Jay, giving in. Too constricted to actually cry, dry sobs occasionally broke through his lips. All the while he shook, struggling to get enough air to form a coherent sentence let alone word.

  
“Do you...regret, last night?” Jay whispered after a few more moments, “Because I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure about continuing this if you don’t-” Jay began to slide his arms off Nick, drawing away slowly, his words moving slower, before Nick grabbed at him to come back.

  
“No! I don’t regret it!” He said earnestly, tilting his head back as far as it could go to get a good look at Jay. He needed Jay to see his eyes, for him to know that nothing, no amount of fear nor parents nor societal disapproval could ever make him regret his night with Jay. Never regret. Terrify, sure, but he wouldn’t dream of taking any of it back. “At least, not that part,” he squeezed Jay’s arm before shuffling back against his chest.

  
The dopiest grin broke across Jay’s face as he hugged Nick back to him. “Good,” he breathed, “Good...so then, what is bothering you?”

  
Nick shook his head. How could he dump any of this on Jay? Perfect, happy Jay, the man without a cloud on his horizon. No one would want to listen to Nick belly ache, least of all him. He had spent years, almost 19 of them, learning how to internalize all of it, how to deal with it on his own. Not for his own sake but for others. Nobody needed his burdens dumped on him. Besides, Jay was only asking to be polite, or because he had to. After all, they had slept together. Jay probably felt he had an obligation to ask, but that didn’t mean he actually wanted to know what was going on inside. Nick couldn’t bring himself to dump this snowstorm on him too.

  
“It’s nothing. It’s not important,” Nick mumbled, knowing it was a half-assed excuse.

  
Jay huffed from his nose, “Do you want me to play the guessing game? You know, you can tell me things.”

  
Bitter laughter bounced in his head. Sure, Nick could tell Jay _things_. Not this. He couldn’t ruin this morning. Well, it was already slightly ruined, but he didn’t want to mess it up even more. Though it is hard to come back from dry sobbing onto your roommate-friend-possibly-boyfriend’s chest.

  
“I just, can’t help...sometimes, sometimes I just...panic,” Nick admitted. A truth. Not the whole truth, but still. Hopefully that would be enough to satisfy Jay’s curiosity. Jay hummed in thought and already Nick could tell that he wanted to pursue the subject. Nick prayed he wouldn’t. His shaking had diminished, but it could come back far too easily if he gave the subject too much thought again. He’d much rather stay lost in Jay for the rest of time, which wasn’t too hard a task to accomplish. Jay decided to drop the subject and wasted the rest of the morning chasing all other thoughts from Nick’s mind. And for one blissful morning, Nick could forget again. Forget a whole 18 years and the following consequences. He was more than happy to ignore his common sense if just for a few hours. But at some point, when he was least ready for it, the morning would pass and it would be time to enter the snow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, this fic isn’t dead  
> Also, thanks to my beta, cosmic-inkling!  
> Really helped me out


End file.
